Refound Happiness
by Fernandidilly-yo
Summary: Peter reveals himself as none other than Spiderman. Many things change once the world finds out sixteen-year-old Peter Parker is the wall-crawler of New York, good and bad. And unfortunately for Peter, he is the one left in the middle of the chaos his unmasking has caused. Good thing the Avengers have his back. (Reintroducing Hope Sequel)
1. Chapter 1

***slides in* I'm back baby!**

 **I have missed all you guys and hearing from you every week, (can you believe it's been three months!?) so I am psyched to get back into the swing of things!**

 **Disclaimer- I do not own any of the main characters.**

 **Enjoy the first chapter (of many to come) of Refound Happiness!**

 **Edited- July/19/17**

* * *

 ** _Refound Happiness; Chapter 1:_**

Spidey swung forward with a _'thwip'_ of his wrist, twisting his body to the side so that he rolled through the slowly darkening sky. The teen let out a whoop of excitement as he flew high above the street and the many people bustling below.

The wind that blew against his spandex covered skin was warm and washed over his body as he rolled on top of a rooftop, coming to a stop on the ledge in his famous crouch. The sun was slowly setting and most people were rushing to get home. But Spidey was just getting started.

Peter blew out a breath. Letting his legs slide from under him so that they could dangle off the side of the building. Crime had slowed up ever so slightly, and Peter was feeling a bit bored.

 _Was that terrible?_

Yeah, it was terrible.

Peter was terrible.

He had a lot of time on his hands as of late. So, he was patrolling quite a bit more than usual and his hard work was paying off, so yeah, Peter was a bit bored at the moment. But he would be starting some college classes soon, so that would liven things back up.

The teenager was still working on getting his high school diploma, but he didn't see any harm in taking a few classes while he did that. Okay, so maybe taking on so much at one time wasn't the _smartest_ thing Peter could do, but Peter thrived under pressure… _right?_

 _"Pphhh, pphhh,"_ Spidey's body jerked as someone whispered in his ear. "Peter, you there?" came Clint's voice over Peter's earpiece.

Spidey rolled his eyes at the Archer as he began kicking his feet against the hard brick of the building. "What's up Hawk-guy?" he asked. The team _(Steve)_ had insisted that Peter now wear an earpiece while out on patrols just in case he needed backup. Peter hadn't been all that thrilled about it, but Steve said that the alternative was to have _someone go with him_ , so, Peter had picked the lesser of two evils.

Tony said that Cap would lay off after a while, but for right now the team was more on edge due to the whole debacle with Hydra, and in all honesty, Peter couldn't really blame any of the adults, that had _not_ been a fun night.

But the team wasn't supposed to distract him on the line, not unless there was trouble back at the Tower. Steve had also made that very clear, talking over the comms while Peter was fighting baddies was a big _no-no_ …Clint, however, didn't seem to care.

"Where are you?" the man asked. The back of Spidey's head started buzzing with a familiar tingle, the teen righted himself and began sprinting down the side of the building before launching himself off and flipping through the air.

"Uh, _out_ ," Peter said absently, twisting his body so he could avoid being clobbered by a moving crane (again). Not one of Spidey's finer moments. "Why?"

Clint huffed over the line, "I'm bored," the man said, causing Peter to snort a laugh.

"And that is my problem how?" the teen retorted, executing a front flip and landing on a far up fire escape, looking down on three large men cornering a smaller man in a darkened alleyway.

 _"Peter!"_ Clint hissed, making the teen cringe. "You should have told me you were going out on patrol, I would have tagged along."

Peter rolled his eyes and then his whole body; landing on one guy's shoulders and making the man crumple with an _'oomph'_. "Ever think that maybe that's the reason I _didn't_ tell you? -" Peter asked with a huff, punching a baddie with a huge nose in the gut before spinning around and kicking out at another.

"-This is my _me time_ Hawk-dude, and quite honestly I don't think you could keep up with me." Peter yelped as his elbow was hit with a pipe the vibration snaking up his arm and making his body tingle; the teen spun around, yanking the rusted metal away from the large man with a unibrow before he broke it in half and threw the two pieces to the rooftop with a clatter.

Peter pointed a gloved finger at Unibrow and in a scolding tone grumbled _, "rude."_ Before promptly punching the guy in the face.

 _What?_

Peter's arm hurt _okay,_ and now Unibrow's face hurt,

 _fairs fair._

Clint let an indignant squawk out at Peter, making the teen wince yet again. (There has _got_ to be a way to turn the volume down on this thing) "I'll have you know _Spider-Brat,_ I could kick your butt any day!" the archer said vehemently.

Peter snickered, webbing the baddies together and turning to the shocked man still clutching his briefcase to his chest in the back corner of the alley. "Call the police, tell them to pick these guys up," he told the older short man.

The guy nodded but didn't make any indication that he was going to do so. Peter sighed, rubbing at his temple before replying to Clint, "you're on, training room tomorrow you are going _down!"_

Briefcase man looked like he was about to pee his pants whimpering a choked sound from where he was crouched down, Peter wondered why for a moment (because _there was_ nothing wrong _anymore the bad guys were all webbed up)_ , before it donned on him that the man thought that last statement was directed at him. Spidey started waving his hands around frantically saying _"_ No, not _you,_ I wasn't talking to _you-"_

But it was too late, briefcase man ran off with a yip, nearly tripping over the webbed baddies as he dodged Spidey. Peter could hear the man yelling as he ran away _"run! Run for your lives! Spiderman is attacking!"_

Peter cupped his hands around his masked mouth, _"I WASN'T TALKING TO YOU! WAIT, COME BACK!" _Spidey groaned loudly, smacking a hand to his face in exasperation, he would _not_ be surprised to find this in Daily Bugle tomorrow. (Darn it)

Clint sniggered in his ear, "if I wasn't already, I'd be deaf right now," he told Peter flatly.

"Shut up," Spidey grunted.

"I did'n say nothin'," Big-Nose grumbled from his place on the ground, blinking up at Spiderman.

Peter threw his hands up in the air, frustrated, _"I WASN'T TALKING TO YOU EITHER!"_ the teen shouted at Big-Nose.

The guys face scrunched up, his fist like nose wrinkling in his confusion. "Ya talk'n to yourself?" he asked, wiggling uncomfortable in his webbed restraints, "ya crazy or somethin'?"

Peter groaned, refraining from dragging his hand down his face in a display of irritation. "I am not crazy." (But he was surrounded by idiots)

Clint hummed in his ear, "I don't know Peter, I think the guys got a point."

"You be quiet, you,"

"I still did'n say nothin'," Big-Nose grumbled at Peter.

Spidey didn't feel any remorse as he webbed Big-Nose's mouth shut.

* * *

Spidey flung himself onto the side of the Avengers Tower, flying upward like a ball out of a cannon, allowing his arms and legs to catch in the wind before abruptly slamming against the glass and climbing up to his floor. The teenager knocked on the window after a moment. "Hey, J, could'ya let me in?" Spidey called softly.

A moment later the window slid up and Peter was able to jump inside with a dull _'thump'_. "Thanks, JARVIS," the teen whispered to the ceiling, he didn't really know why he was whispering since he had his own floor, but old habits die hard, huh?

"You are most welcome Peter," JARVIS whispered back, Peter found himself smiling at the A.I for matching his tone. "How was tonight's patrol?" the robotic butler asked.

Peter slipped out of his mask, his hair puffing out wildly, and throwing it on his coffee table haphazardly before he began peeling the rest of his suit off. _Is this what it feels like when a lizard sheds its skin?_ Peter thinks so. He'll have to ask Dr. Connors next time he sees him… _(joking, not joking)_

"Good," Peter answered, "nothing too big, just a few muggings and drug dealers. Made friends with a prostitute." Her name was Patricia and Peter still has no idea how she was able to walk around in those high heels, he helped her to a women's shelter, and her life story made Peter feel sad.

Patricia is Peter's hero...

She cried when he told her that…

"I'm sure that Sir will be most proud to hear this," JARVIS responded flatly. Peter smirked to himself, he figured that JARVIS always told Tony or at least Steve (maybe even Sam, Peter wouldn't doubt it) about his nightly activities, but his suspicions hadn't been confirmed until this very moment.

"I'm sure Steve will lecture me about it tomorrow," Peter sighed, (but he was still smiling) as he peeled his tights off, walking to his room in nothing but his underwear and falling face first on the bed with a drawn-out moan. Awe, _fuzzy blanket_ , his one true love.

"Indeed sir." JARVIS sounded cheeky, _can an A.I be cheeky?_

Peter knew that he needed a shower, he smelled like sweat and dirt and a bit of Patricia's perfume (cotton candy apparently). But he was drained, and in all honesty, he didn't really care at the moment.

Plus, if he took a bath or shower he might fall asleep again…And Natasha had been pretty mad at him the last time he fell asleep in the bath…so that was a no go, an angry Nat was a scary Nat…well _scarier_ …she was always scary…but in a weird _'I don't want to disappoint her'_ kind of way…it was confusing,

Peter was confused,

when _wasn't_ Peter confused...?

It was too late for this.

Peter was exhausted and couldn't think right now.

The teenager told his brain to shut up, so he could go to sleep.

* * *

Peter felt the air whoosh out of his lungs as he was slammed to the floor. The teen stayed on the blue mat for a moment, his face pressed to its sticky surface as he lay sprawled on the ground panting like the loser he was… _loser_ …

" _Ha!"_ Clint chanted somewhere over Peter, "Had enough yet?" he taunted. Peter felt like flipping the man off, but that would require movement, something Peter was incapable of doing at this very moment.

"I hate you so much," Peter grumbled into the mat. Clint woke him up at stupid-o-clock in the morning and then forced Peter to come spar with him like they had agreed on last night. But Peter didn't remember saying anything about waking up at stupid-o-clock and he was still a bit irritated about being _tackled_ awake out of his blissful slumber. (How old is Clint?! _Seriously_ )

Clint had then said it was hand to hand combat only and that their feet were to stay on the ground at all times and Peter _didn't remember agreeing to those rules either_ …But he hadn't _disagreed_ , so here Peter was; getting the stupid beaten out of him at stupid-o-clock by a stupid-bird-man… (Peter didn't have enough brain power to think of any other words to express himself right now)

"Awe, I love you too!" Clint cooed at Peter before plopping down and lying next to the teenager, the blond unsurprisingly used Peter's back as a pillow, his legs crossed in front of him as he hummed to himself in a sure to be mocking way.

Peter was not a morning person.

Clint evidently _was_.

Or maybe it was just because Clint was a spy and he was predisposed to this kind of thing, he could wake up at any time and be functional. Honestly, Peter didn't really care. He just wanted to go back to bed, maybe he would sleep right here on this mat…it was comfortable enough…

"Your stance was all off; you don't fight as well when you're tired and cranky," Clint said seriously, his eyes gazing up at the white ceiling.

Peter rolled his head to the side so that his cheek was pressed to the cool mat. "You don't say," he snarked back, "how'd you figure that _Sherlock?"_ he asked, his tone a bit biting.

Clint pinched the teen's side causing Peter to yelp more in surprise than pain. "An attack could come at any time and you need to be on your feet and ready, baddies aren't going to stop because you need your _beauty sleep_ \- which you clearly aren't getting enough of, I mean have you _looked_ in the mirror lately, Pete? _Nasty."_

Peter pinched the Archer back in retaliation, blowing out a heavy sigh. "I know Clint," the teen said, knowing that there was more to that simple statement.

They all knew that Peter could function without sleep, it was whether or not he could fight while sleep deprived and without his web-shooters, (which Peter did for months while homeless) but he hadn't gone up against any Major Villains (thank god) so his hand to hand wasn't all that great. (It wasn't like Peter had training or anything, he was pretty much just throwing punches where he could and dodging while relying on his spider-sense) there was no technique to it, and apparently, it showed.

When the team found out about Peter's apparent lack of skill, they decided to rectify the problem, hence the required training.

So, hand to hand was what Peter was working on as of late, and it was a bit humiliating. (Getting his butt handed to him wasn't something Peter was overly eager to do) "I was going easy on you, _old man,"_ Peter informed Clint, "didn't want to hurt your pride or self-confidence, we all know you're lacking."

Clint smacked the top of Peter's head before springing up to a standing position his hands clenched into fists, in a perfect fighting stance. "Oh yeah?" he challenged, sounding amused, "let's go again, kid, but this time _neither_ of us will hold back."

Peter looked at the older man incredulously, squinting at him and holding back the petulant pout that wanted to form on his lips. "You were holding back?" he asked, his voice verging on a whine.

Clint's smirk was evil and mocking. "Just a bit," he hummed, winking at Peter before saying in a low voice, "I was just getting warmed up."

Peter felt his chest deflate, he was in for it now. "Did I mention how much I hate you right now?"

"Up and at'em."

"So much hate, so much."

* * *

Peter crawled onto the couch next to Sam, his hair wet from his shower and his body sore from an overly aggressive Clint Barton. (I mean c'mon, can't Clint be nice to Peter every once and a while? It was _morning time_ , people shouldn't be forced to function in the early hours of the day; let alone having to get their butts kicked) Peter pressed his face into the soft cushion letting out a groan of utter despair.

The teen heard Sam chuckle before he felt the man begin to ruffle his hair. "Fun times with Clint?" Sam asked.

Peter squinted up at the man with one eye. "Not fun. _Never_ fun." Full on coherent sentences were out of Peter's grasp as of now. He was pretty sure that Clint had knocked out a few brain cells, and Peter only got three hours of sleep, the teenager was starting to regret his decision to stay out on a longer patrol now. (Darn him and his need to help people)

Sam chuckled, his fingers playing with Peter's damp puffy hair. "How much sleep did you get Peter?" he asked.

The teen hummed, running a hand over Sam's casted leg that was carefully propped up by a stack of pillows. The cast still had all those silly pictures on it, the same ones that the team had drawn a few weeks ago. But it would have to be re-casted soon, maybe they would just decorate it again?

"Mmm, not enough. Never enough," the teen responded. Bruce said that his body was still trying to catch up on all the sleep he had been deprived of the last few years. (and really, the eight months that he was homeless) but Peter didn't understand how his body could _possibly_ still need rest, he had slept a _ton_ while in Greenland.

But Bruce said that his body needed to work off the trauma he had endured (or whatever) and that Peter was still not sleeping as much as his body required. Bruce had suggested that he take a break from patrolling so that his body could fully recover. But that was ridiculous, Peter was fine physically, there was no need for him to start slacking on his responsibilities to New York.

"Maybe you should go back to bed," Sam suggested, "what do you have to do today?" he asked, his hands still running through Peter's damp hair.

The teenager hummed in thought, "uh, just school stuff. _Oh!"_ Peter cut himself off remembering that he did, in fact, have something to do later on today. "And Tony wanted to talk to me about the whole adoption thingy-ma-bob."

Yeah, that was right, Tony had asked Peter if he would allow Tony to adopt him. Peter was kind of surprised that he had agreed so fast. But it seemed like the only good option that Peter had at his disposal, and it wasn't like Peter wanted to go anywhere _else_. This was his home now.

And honestly, it wasn't as if it was going to change anything. Tony would always be _Tony_. And Peter didn't need parents he was nearly seventeen. The adoption was just so Peter could live with the Avengers legally and to get Child Protective Services off of the teenager's back.

It was no big deal, just paperwork… _right?_

When they had informed the team, there had been shouts of excitement and Peter had found himself in the middle of a massive group hug, and then a moment later, on top of Thor's shoulders, being marched off for a 'feast'. They had celebrated with root beer floats and a movie marathon.

Peter didn't regret his decision whatsoever.

But there was still the prospect of unmasking himself. Now that, _that_ Peter was still a bit uncertain of. Tony had agreed that he would take the adoption papers to his lawyer beforehand and see if he was approved for guardianship without Peter outing his secret identity. But Tony had also made it clear that that was most likely not going to happen. A Judge would have to be crazy (or bribed) into letting Tony Stark take in a _'helpless'_ child.

It would have been nice if Peter and Tony could have fibbed and said that Tony knew the Parkers or that he was an old family friend. But clearly, that wasn't the case. C.P.S had gone through all of Peter's long-lost relatives and old friends, only to come out empty handed all those months ago when Aunt May had died.

It would be very suspicious that Tony Stark of all people randomly popped up almost nine months later, (especially since Peter was filed under as a missing child) it just wouldn't pan out.

So, in the likelihood that Tony does get denied guardianship, they will have to go to plan B and Peter will have to unmask himself as Spiderman. It wasn't the best plan, but Tony would most likely be approved for adoption of Peter if the world knew that he wasn't some defenseless kid. Tony had also pointed out that with the press and people putting pressure on the case the Judge would most likely cave much sooner. It wasn't the most honest way to get what they wanted, but it should work.

Sam hummed, patting Peter's head before shifting so he could grab his crutches and get up. "Have you eaten breakfast yet?" he asked as he headed over to the Tower's shared kitchen.

Peter flopped over so that he was laying on his back. "Uh, does an apple count?" he asked back, staring up at the white ceiling. Could JARVIS see him from this angle? Were there cameras that Peter couldn't see? Probably, this was Tony he was talking about after all.

"One apple for a growing teenage boy, no. One apple for a _growing teenage boy with a crazy fast metabolism_ , double no," Sam teased, the man reached into the fridge rummaging around before asking "waffles?" his voice muffled by the fridge doors.

Peter's head popped up from behind the couch, his hair fluffy and unruly were Sam had huffed it, sticking up at odd ends and making Peter look younger. "Like, are you _making_ waffles or are there some already in there?" he asked.

Sam hobbled his way over to a cupboard pulling out a large mixing bowl before answering, "nah, just gonna make some."

Peter sprung over the back of the couch (like Steve had told him not too) before stretching and yawning loudly, "I'll help," he offered, his bare feet padding into the kitchen. The tiled floor felt cold on his skin causing the teen to curl his toes against it.

Sam raised an amused eyebrow at Peter. " _Really?_ You wanna help me make waffles?" he asked, and Peter could swear he heard a slight snicker in the other's voice.

"That was one time, Sam!" he exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air in exasperation.

"You set the kitchen on fire, kid."

Peter groaned, "well I might not be the best chef or-or baker or whatever, but you are a _helpless cripple_ and I can't stand by and-and watch you flail around the kitchen dis-disabled, in your time of need."

Sam hit Peter in the leg with one of his crutches, "I'll show you disabled," he chuckled at Peter's indignant huff. "Uh, fine, you can help, but I don't want you near anything that could catch fire-"

"One time, man, one time!"

"-so you are on fruit duty." Sam finished, ignoring Peter.

Peter's nose scrunched up in confusion. "Fruit duty?" he repeated, his head cocking to the side.

"Just grab some fruit, wash it and slice it up, but if you chop off a finger I'm kicking you out of here."

Peter put a hand to his forehead in a mock salute "yes sir, boss man sir."

* * *

Peter's head was going to fall off.

Or maybe his brain was just melting.

But nonetheless, the teenager was done with homework for the day. Peter had sort of flew through Math and Science…Which left him the less interesting subjects…and by 'less interesting' Peter meant completely _kill him with a rusty knife_ boring. If he had to learn anything to do with American history _one more time_ he was going to burn down a library or something reckless like that…yeah that would show'em.

The teenager was taking a few classes online and down at the college so that he could get the rest of his high school credits and have that over and done with. Peter was hoping that he could get it all finished quickly so that he could move on to a University, and start learning about things he cared for and was passionate about.

Actually, in all honesty, Peter didn't _need_ to get his high school diploma or even go to college (which had been pointed out to him multiple times, thank you Clint/Tony) he was doing it because he truly liked learning. Now Peter knew that maybe that was a bit weird for someone his age, to want to go to college simply _to go_. But Peter never claimed to be normal, so…

But that still didn't mean he enjoyed History or English. Unfortunately for Peter, though, if he wanted to pass his tests he would have to know more than just Math and Science.

So, that would be why Peter's brain was currently melting out of his skull. (English, _yuck_ ) He needed a break, and he was pretty sure he knew exactly what would stretch his muscles and take his mind off of grammar and proper punctuation.

The teenager twisted out of his chair and webbed his suit to himself (he never took his shooters off, not after being without them for so long. Sam said it was normal, that having his shooters might just be a security thing, like little kids with a stuffed bear or something) (Clint had then pointed out that Peter's blue fuzzy blanket could also be considered a security blanket, (in a very literal way) and then Sam had hit Clint and Peter had just wrapped the blanket around himself tighter. _So, take that you meanie Archer!)_

Peter began flinging his clothes off in an excited rush, trying to put his suit on instead. But somehow, in his hyped-up hurry, he ended up with one leg on the ceiling and the other on his window in the process.

Was it weird that he couldn't seem to get dressed without being at least horizontal?

Yeah, it was weird.

Peter was weird.

"Uh, kid?" a very confused voice sounded from Peter's doorway.

The teenager gave a start at the voice and promptly fell off the ceiling and onto the floor. "What the heck happened to knocking?!" he squawked at Tony. Pulling himself off the ground and glaring at the man.

Tony just looked rather amused and not a single bit remorseful for startling Peter. " _My_ Tower, me no knocky," he answered a quirk to his brow. "You headed out on a patrol?" he asked.

Peter nodded before realizing that Tony and he were supposed to talk about the whole adoption debacle. "Uh I was, I forgot that we were supposed to talk this afternoon, though."

Tony placed a hand over his arc reactor and gave a gasp, "am I that forgettable?" he asked in mock insult.

Peter rolled his eyes at the man, running a thumb over the fabric of his mask. "My brain is kind of fried after studying. I was just going to swing around to get my mind cleared," he told the other.

Tony nodded, placing his hands in his pockets before turning to the window. It was a clear day today, the sun shining over the tops of skyscrapers and making the sky look a deeper shade of blue. Peter could just make out a flock of pigeons jumping off a rooftop and diving towards the ground before abruptly swooping back up and letting the wind carry them forward. Peter was honestly, maybe a bit ridiculously, jealous of the birds.

"You mind if I join you?"

Tony's voice brought Peter out of his thoughts. "Huh?"

Tony twisted to look at Peter giving a small shrug. "How would you feel if Iron Man and Spiderman had a team up?" he asked.

Peter felt a slow smile creep onto his face.

* * *

"Ah ha!" Spidey cackled as he punched the Trapster in the face. The baddie grunted, pulling away as he tried to spray Peter with a shot of tacky white glue, Spidey sprang to the side, laughing _"I'm rubber, you're glue, what bounces off me sticks to you!"_ he called, his spider-sense telling him where to jump in order to avoid the glue.

"Oh, my god," Tony said into the comm, "you didn't," his tone was flat and unimpressed, Spidey wasn't sure how Tony's voice could be that monotone when Iron Man was currently fighting against the Sandman, but Tony's disappointment was still very prevalent.

The Trapster growled, lifting up his large gun-glue-thingys and shooting them off at Spiderman, who was still flipping and twisting as not to get stuck. "What?" Peter asked as he swung towards the Trapster, trying to kick the man, but missing as the baddie leaped sideways at the last second. "I'm just _bonding_ with Trapster here," he snickered to himself.

Man, he was a riot.

"Quit with the stupid jokes bug brain!" Trapster yelled at the teenager as he spun in a circle, spraying glue everywhere. A woman screamed from inside of her car, now stuck within its metal confines, ugh, Peter would have to get her out later.

"What?" Spiderman said as he ran across the side of a building, flipping off and narrowly missing one of Sandman fists aimed for the spider. "Are my jokes too _tacky_ for you? You can tell me, I'm not _attached_ to them or anything." Ah, Peter could do this all day, if only Clint were here, he would totally join in on the fun.

"You know what Spidey," Sandman yelled as he slammed the teenager into a wall, "I'm startin' to get sick'n tired of'ya," he said as his face formed in front of the teenager's mask.

Peter grunted, his face scrunching in discomfort as he shifted against the other man's grip. "My quips too _gritty_ for'ya? They _rub_ you the wrong way, Sandy?" he asked. Which earned the teenager a punch to the gut. Okay, so maybe Peter wasn't the brightest, it was basic superhero 1-0-1 that you should _not_ antagonize a villain while in their grip, but Spidey had always been a rule breaker.

Actually, that was a lie.

Peter was in fact not a rule breaker. He very much was the _opposite_. Once when he was eleven he had accidentally taken two balloons from a grocery store on free balloon day, even though each customer was only permitted one, and he had felt _so_ guilty he ended up running back, paying for both of the balloons, and running back out without a word.

Okay, so yeah, Peter was a dork.

Whatever.

He still looked freakin awesome in red and blue spandex, and not all dorks can pull that off.

"Imma fill your lungs with sand, and let'ya choke to death!" Sandman yelled. Peter wrinkled his nose in distaste at the baddie even though the man couldn't see it.

"Could we not?" Peter asked, his tone that of a bratty child, shifting against the wall and Sandman's fist. "My schedule is packed at the moment, and I'm kinda stuck between a wall and a lard face." At that moment Peter kicked upwards and into Sandman's jaw. "Get it?" Spidey asked, making jazz hands at Sandman as he sprang away. " _Lard face?_ That's you. I just insulted you," Peter clarified, "I wasn't sure if that would go over your head, honestly sometimes I think that noggin of yours is filled with nothing but sand." Spidey knocked on the side of his own head as he said this, making Sandman roar in anger.

"For the love of god Spidey!" Iron Man shouted. Peter cringed at the man's voice, he had kind of forgotten that Tony was here, oopsies.

"Heh, heh, sorry Iron Man, got carried away there for a second," Spidey said into his comm as he jumped away from an overly angry Sandman. (Wonder what pissed him off?)

Tony let out a sigh, the sound crackling over the comm and into Peter's ear. "S'fine Webs, let's just finish off these Neanderthals so we can eat."

"Whoever takes them down first doesn't pay," Peter said as he shot out a web, letting it carry him away from Sandman and towards Iron Man and the Trapster.

The Trapster was aiming for Iron Man's hand repulsors, which wasn't a problem in itself because Tony could just melt the glue off, but the adhesive was starting to get into Iron Man's gears and joint, making it hard for the man to move within the suit.

"You're on," Tony replied as he shot out at the Trapster, but the blast missed as Spiderman swung in and kicked the Trapsterout of Iron Man's range.

Sandman was on Peter's tail, which was what the teen had been working toward. People may think that Peter talks just because he likes the sound of his own voice, but the teenager had learned over the years that distracting baddies with his quips and insults made them easier to defeat, their anger getting the best of them, not allowing them to think clearly.

Peter landed in a crouch on top of a minivan and shot out another web at the Trapster, pulling the baddie towards him. "One," Spidey counted to himself, hearing Sandman rushing towards him in a wave of dust, as he pulled Trapster closer. "Two," Peter grunted, as he grabbed the Trapster in an awkward hug, the teenager's chest pressed to the Trapsters back. "Three!" Spiderman shouted as he punched a hole into the Trapster's backpack glue-contraption-doohickey and threw him into the oncoming form of Sandman.

A moment later the two baddies were stuck together in a grimy paste, wiggling and screaming obscenities at each other as they thrashed about. Spidey hopped off the van and smacked his gloved palms together before pressing his hands to his hips, toeing at the villains with a boot, causing them to shout louder, the spider looked over at Tony a moment later.

"Huh, guess lunch is on you."

* * *

Peter hummed to himself as he took his first bite of his second burrito. The sun was shining on him, making his suit feel warm against his skin, it was gradually becoming hotter now that Spring had hit. It was pleasant, Peter was ready for nice weather and longer days, he was tired of the cold of Winter.

A sound caught Peter's attention from the other direction of the rooftop. The teenager swiveled to the side, finding that there was a flock of pigeons nearby, giving him the side-eye, one looked a little scary, it's one eye trained solely on Peter's face…Spidey felt as if that single pigeon could see right through his mask, it stared at the teen determinedly, never blinking. Not wanting to anger it further, Peter tossed a few chips to the birds as a peace offering.

Tony scoffed beside him, the man also sitting on the edge of the roof, but not so relaxed as Spidey was. Peter liked the feeling of his feet dangling over the edge, his spider-sense a light hum in the back of his head telling him not to lean forward. It was a thrill, a _tiny_ thrill, but a thrill nonetheless.

"Don't encourage them," Tony said, his face mask lifted up so that he could eat. Some of the sunlight was glinting off his suit, the glare getting in Peter's eyes the teen resisted the urge to shield his eyes. "I bought this food for _you_ , not for a bunch of birds," Iron Man said, his tone flat, but Peter knew he was teasing.

You wouldn't think it, but Tony Stark was a _big fat dork_. Not that Peter would ever say that to his face. Peter didn't think anyone could get away with calling Tony a dork. Well, maybe Steve. But Steve might not even know what a dork is…

Questions, questions.

Just to spite Tony, Peter picked up a few more chips and tossed them over to the pigeons without taking his eyes off of the man in front of him.

Tony scoffed again, placing a garnet hand on his chest and glaring at the teenager, "you ungrateful child," he mock-scolded his tone hushed and slightly wounded.

Peter stuck his tongue out at the billionaire, making sure that he had at least swallowed his food first. God, if you had told Peter he would be this friendly and open with _Tony Stark_ of all people, just a few months ago, he would have laughed in your face. It was amazing what could change in so little time, _good and bad._

Tony threw a chip at Peter's exposed nose, his mask being half way lifted up so he could eat. Peter caught the chip in his mouth making a loud obnoxious crunching sound as he bit it before glancing back out at the vast city sitting below his dangling feet.

"So," Tony began, his tone changing as he set down his soda and turned slightly so he was better facing Peter.

Spidey, feeling the mood change, also turned, pulling one leg up to his chest and letting the other drape off the ledge of the roof. "So," Peter repeated.

"My lawyers got back to me this afternoon," Tony began.

Peter felt himself straighten automatically. "Yeah?" he asked, trying to keep his tone even, not wanting to sound too optimistic or anxious. Peter had told himself not to keep his hopes up, but even so, the teen could feel his nervousness swimming around his gut.

"And," Tony sighed, "I was denied the adoption."

Peter felt something twist in his gut, he looked away quickly, staring down at the cars far below. Biting his lip Peter pulled his one leg tighter to his chest and hugged it to himself. He didn't know why the news left him feeling so raw, he had always known this was a very feasible possibility. Tony hadn't left anything up to the imagination, Peter was fully filled in, and the teenager had stayed up far too long into _multiple_ nights reading the qualifications of an adopting parent, and what traits or qualities would make you an unviable person to adopt a child. Peter knew the ins and outs, or at least he felt he did. But even so, that didn't make hearing this news any easier.

"But we figured that this would happen, remember?" Tony addressed Peter, one of his metal boots toeing at Peter's thigh. "The system accepting my request for adopting was always a long shot."

"Yeah…" Peter agreed absent-mindedly. The teenager pulled a deep breath into his lungs trying to ground himself before he turned back to the billionaire. "What were their reasons?" he couldn't help but ask.

Tony's mouth scrunched to the side, showing his distaste. "Where do I start?" he began with an eye roll, bringing up his metal fingers and counting off as he talked. "I'm not a suitable guardian for a child, _because_ , not only would I bring danger to said child because of my _'work'_ , but I also have a vast history of being a playboy, which means I would bring unsuitable strangers into the child's life. It is also public knowledge that I used to have a drinking problem, which is a big _no-no_. I travel quite often and would cause an unstable living environment for a _'growing youth'_. I could die at any given moment because of my _'medical condition'_ , oh, and I am unstable because of my PTSD. Those among many other things were all pointed out to me." Tony huffed, looking away from Peter and out to the sky. "But really kiddo," he went on in a softer voice, "they thought it was a publicity stunt. It just wasn't in the cards."

Peter nodded, his mask shifting over his nose. The teenager pulled it down a moment later, he wasn't really hungry anymore anyways. "Yeah, just not in the cards," he agreed.

A moment later a large metal hand was placed on Peter's shoulder, making the teen turn so he could look over at Tony. "They did grant me temporary guardianship," Tony assured, something akin to his trademark smirk playing on his features. "And remember, this was just plan A, we've got a pretty bullet proof plan B."

Spidey nodded, unwrapping his arms from around his leg and letting it drop next to his other dangling one, his spider-sense gave a slight hum at the movement. "Plan B," he breathed, "r-right, so, so, when then?" Peter's tongue felt too big for his mouth.

Iron Man took his hand away leaning back on his arms and looking out at the city before them, "I can have a press conference set up with the snap of my fingers, if you wanted, the world could know your name by this time tomorrow. S'all up to you, Webs. Whatever you want."

Peter breathed in deeply through his nose, taking in the smell of pollution and a bit of salt from the nearby bay. His head felt fuzzy in an anxious jittery way, it was the same heady feeling he used to get when he first started web-slinging and fighting crime in nothing more than a pair of tight jeans and a red hoodie, it wasn't necessarily a bad feeling, but it was a bit uncomfortable.

"By this time tomorrow huh?" Peter aske though he wasn't really asking. "I don't know if that gives Clint enough time to get all dolled up for the big'ol event. I'm thinking he might need a bit more notice than that, what about, let's say, Saturday?"

Tony raised an eyebrow in question, though his tone was unemotional, "Saturday?" he asked, making sure that Peter was sure, that he was positive this was the route he wanted to go.

"Saturday," Peter answered.

* * *

 **I am so happy to be back into this story. I missed it a bunch. I binged watched all the Marvel movies, so I could get back into character. *smiles to self* it was a great sacrifice on my part...**

 **Sidenote; Happy Death to 2016 Day! (worst year ever!)**

 **Alright, kiddos, please let me know what you think, and I will see you all next week!**


	2. Chapter 2

**This chapter kicked my butt, and then beat me with a shovel severely...But alas, I have vanquished the beast...**

 **(Sorry, it's a little late, I suffered from cardiac arrest a few days ago, and I wasn't able to finish up the last of this chapter until this evening...But it's here now!)**

* * *

 **Chapter 2:**

Three days.

That was how long Peter had until he revealed himself to the world as the masked vigilante _Spiderman_.

Just _three measly days_ ,

that was 72 hours,

4,320 minutes,

and 259,200 seconds…

And it was not nearly enough time.

Peter felt jittery, his skin too tight for his body and his mind spinning a mile a minute. Which by the way _, were limited minutes,_ there was not enough time in the day! Three days might not seem like such a meager amount of time to, like, _a fruit fly,_ _but those stupid little things only live for like a month or something!_

Well, Peter was _not_ a fruit fly. And therefore, three days was not much in his opinion! Three days was _minuscule_ , it was _itty bitty_ , for god sakes Peter could probably watch TV for three days straight. It was not enough time for him to process and wrap his mind around this huge decision he had just made earlier today.

This, this is what was running through the teenager's head as he lay in bed. _Not sleeping_. It had to be somewhere around four in the morning. Peter glanced over to his bedside clock, _4:56am_ , okay, scratch that, it was five in the morning and he was wide awake, feeling wired, and way to restless to fall back asleep.

But ya'see the problem with this time of the night was, it was too late for normal people to still be awake from yesterday, and it was too early for not crazy people to be starting their day today…Meaning that no baddies were out and about, the sun would be up in an hour or so, and people would start to wake up soon, the perfect time to start a heist (Does anyone even say heist anymore? Peter only knows that word from those old cop shows Uncle Ben used to watch) is when people are all home and you have plenty of dark hours ahead, so somewhere from 11pm to 4am.

Peter just missed the cutoff, _dag-nab-it!_

The teenager huffed before rolling out of bed. He was wearing his Spidey themed pajama pants and a purple Hawkeye hoodie, he needed another haircut pretty badly, and he was sure he looked a bit crazy since he couldn't stop fidgeting.

But whatever, the only person that he ever found awake at this time of night was Thor anyway. And Thor didn't exactly care if Peter was a bit of a hyper mess, in all honestly Peter could probably walk in there buck naked and the thunder god wouldn't bat an eye.

Peter did a weird shuffle-sprint-thingy through his living-room and kitchen, sliding across the floor with his socks and walking over to the stairs, before sprinting down them and towards the common floor.

He could have taken the elevator, but he was trying to burn off some of his jitters, Peter felt the need to _move_. But alas, the stairs weren't enough to make him feel _less, less,_ less _condensed_.

And they sure as heck hadn't helped get his mind off of what he needed to do in a few days. Peter was trying to look at this whole unmasking as a fresh start. God knows he needs one. But it was hard to let go of something that was so important and intricate in what he was for such a long time. Taking off the mask was going to be hard, it would be taking a piece of who Peter was away from him, but Peter was hoping that it could also be a stepping point in the right direction.

Maybe Peter was just making a bigger deal of this than it actually was in reality, he couldn't be sure. But it certainly _felt_ like it was a big deal, it _felt_ like it was a huge decision, and it _felt_ like it would change everything.

But maybe not. The rest of the Avengers were publicly known, and they lived normal lives…well as normal as a superhero's life could be. Okay so, Sam wasn't exactly public, it wasn't like Sam was hiding his identity or anything, but he was a pretty new addition to the team and not many people even knew who Falcon was. Maybe Sam liked it that way.

Would Peter miss being able to have that?

Or would he just get used to everyone knowing his name?

Recognizing his face.

Knowing where he lived.

How old he was.

Where he went to school.

Who raised him.

Peter smacked a hand to his head. Ugh, this was weird and too much to think about. The teenager groaned as he opened the door to the main floor and stepped inside. Maybe if he banged his head against the wall just right he would-

"Peter?" Someone called softly from the kitchen.

The teenager whipped around to find Steve dressed and ready for the day. (What the heck!?) Standing in the kitchen in what looked like workout clothes and holding something in his left hand.

"What are you doing down here?" Peter asked, his nose scrunched up in confusion as he approached the blond.

"I could ask you the same thing." Steve chuckled as he turned and shut the cupboard door. "I'm getting ready for my morning run." The man said with a smile.

Peter pulled himself up onto a counter so he could face Steve. Even up this high, he was only just eye level with the man. That either showed just how big Steve was, or just how small Peter was. (The teenager was hoping for the former, even though he knew the latter was just as accurate) (he needed a growth spurt like _, yesterday!)_

"I didn't think you ran until around six or seven?" Peter asked as he played with his hoodie sleeves, there were little black arrows along the edge of the seams, going along his arms and down the zipper and around the pockets that sat on his tummy, Peter wondered how they stitched them on.

Steve leaned back on the counter facing Peter, unwrapping a protein bar and taking a bite of it. "Well, I don't usually, but I decided to get an early start today." He said with a slight shrug after he swallowed down his food.

Peter could guess what that meant, he knew for a fact that he wasn't the only one that had trouble sleeping in the Tower. Nightmares were not uncommon and insomnia was not something that didn't affect the super human. They all had skeletons in the closet, things that they wish they could go back and change. And for some reason when the moon was up and the shadows lurked in the corners of a silent night, when you should be sleeping, it was always _then_ , it was always in those sleepless nights that you couldn't think of anything else then those darn skeletons.

But Peter didn't push for more information because he knew he wouldn't want anyone to push _him_. "Man, you've gotta be like alien or something," Peter said, shaking his head to himself. "Getting up before the sun and then _exercising_." The teen said the last word in a hushed voice, with a mocking shudder.

Steve's expression was somewhere between fond and exasperated, his eyes rolling to the side as he ate the last of his bar. "Some people actually enjoy _exercising,_ Peter." He informed, using the same hushed and reverent tone Peter had.

Peter huffed a laugh, kicking his legs back and forth before pulling one up and tapping a beat on his knee. He still felt wired, maybe he needed to eat. The teen hopped off the counter onto his tip toes, bouncing his way over to the fridge before pulling it open and searching for an early morning snack.

Steve stayed silent behind him as he rummaged through the main food supply. Which by the way, was very disappointing. There were just _ingredients_ , and pretty much everything else was marked _'Clint's!'_ in purple marker. Peter puckered his lips before shutting the door and sniffing a huff to himself as he leaned on the cold fridge.

"We have no food." He informed Steve.

The blond looked thoughtful for a moment. "I just looked in there, we have plenty of food." He said, a confused tint coloring his tone.

"Yeah, but it's all food you have to _cook,_ " Peter said as he let his socked feet slip forward so he was leaning on the fridge with nothing but his shoulders and head. He could hear the slight hum of the fridge in his ear, feel the vibration of it in his skull. "And Sam said I am _forbidden_ from touching the stove," Peter whined, yup, he was whining at Captain Freakin America.

"Ugh, now I'm gonna starve to death," Peter said, rubbing at his eyes as he let his legs slip all the way, plopping down on the tiled floor to sit in front of the fridge. "All because I have no culinary skills."

Steve chuckled, it was a breathy and huffed sound, but Peter was happy that he was the one to bring it on. "I'll make you a deal, son," Steve said, crossing his arms over his large chest as he smiled down at the small teen. "I know a little diner that opens up at seven. If you come jogging with me, we can go there afterward."

Peter blinked up at the man, his body was shadowed because of the lack of light in the kitchen, but Peter could still see Steve's smile. The teen hummed, Peter didn't necessarily like jogging; fighting crime was just so much more thrilling in comparison, but this might be different because this wasn't just going out for a run with some old joe, this would be running with _Captain America_.

"I'll go put on some pants."

* * *

The air was crisp and cold outside, it's freezing fingers grasping at Peter as he and Steve walked out of the safety of the warm Tower. It was a bitter sweet thing for the teenager.

In some ways being out in the cold of dark reminded him of jumping off buildings and twisting high up in the air covered in the red and blue of spandex. The knowledge that he was about to make a _difference_ , at the forefront of his mind.

But in other ways, the mist of morning air reminded him of lonely nights on an uncomfortable bench, shivering in his many layers of clothing waiting for the sun to show its face again. Hoping that today would be better than yesterday.

Steve clapped Peter on the shoulder, jarring the teenager out of his thoughts, "Try to keep up." The blond said with a wink at Peter, and then he was gone.

Peter wrinkled his nose at the man as he began sprinting to catch up with Steve. "Thanks for the warning." Peter huffed as he got on Cap's right side, his converses weren't really made for running, but they were the closest thing he owned. Well, unless he was to include his Spidey boots that went with his costume because _technically_ those were running shoes.

Steve laughed, picking up a little more speed, his large feet barely hitting the ground before they were up in the air again. The man looked surprised when Peter was able to keep up with his fast strides. He side eyed the teen, blue eyes sparkling with the light of the nearby sky scrapers, "How fast can you run Peter?" He asked, not sounding out of breath whatsoever.

Peter hummed as he gave a shrug, the teen twisted so that he was running backward, giving Steve a smug grin now that he faced the man. "I don't really know… Fast." Peter hadn't ever really tested to see just how fast he could run, all he knew was that he could rival a speeding car when he really got up to speed.

"Well, you know what, son." Steve began. "I wanna race."

The request caused Peter to nearly choked on his own tongue. "Wait." He breathed, spinning back around so that he and Cap were now facing the same direction. "You want to race _me?"_ The teen couldn't help but ask, awe coloring his tone.

"I don't know about you son, but it has been a _very long time_ since I have had a fair foot race against someone," Steve said, his pace picking up with his words.

Peter nodded as he stared down at their feet. "Where too?" Peter asked, feeling a few butterflies flutter in his stomach. He was about to race _Captain America_.

Steve hummed, "Once around the park?" He asked. "Then we can sit down for breakfast."

"Sounds like a plan." Peter answered, "So how are we going to start? Do you want to like, stop and do the whole _'ready, set, go',_ thing or-" Peter began to ask, but the moment he said _'go'_ Steve was off. His steps large and fast, the blond flashing away from Peter in a blur of color.

"Hey!" Peter yelled as he ran forward, _"You cheating cheat!"_ He screeched as he started picking up speed. The teen thought he might've heard a laugh from up ahead.

The air was cold as it whipped at Peter's face, the wind making his hair dance upon his head as he ran. Peter's feet pounded on the concrete before he launches himself forward, his chest beginning to burn with a type of exertion he hadn't felt in a while.

The teen caught up to Steve rather quickly, Peter had a feeling that the man wasn't going quite as fast as he could. But when the brunette came to the man's side, Steve did seem to be breathing a little harder.

Feeling a swoop in his stomach Peter pushed himself further, running past Cap and pulling in a deep breath of cold air. Peter had kind of forgotten what it was like to just run for the heck of it, not running from _someone_ or at _someone_ , to just enjoy the vibration of his sneakers on the ground and the pounding of his heart, it was nice.

A moment later Peter heard, "On your left," And then Steve was running past Peter, a smug grin on his face. Peter scoffed, pushing himself even faster in order to catch up.

The sun was slowly coming up, shadowing the park in a twilight, the many trees, and few people out at this time of the day were nothing but a blur to Peter. The teenager felt a rush of adrenaline as he finally got going, his heart pounding, and his breaths shallow.

Peter started to pass Steve again, and the teen could swear he saw true shock on the man's face as he started to make headway. Peter couldn't help himself he started cracking up, laughing as he ran forward with a rather large push from the ball of his foot.

"Try to keep up old man!" Peter hollered over his shoulder, the air was harsh and making his eyes water, tears streaking his temples and soaking back into his brown hair.

"Oh, I'll try my best," Steve commented dryly as he came to pace with Peter. "I'll try."

* * *

Steve won.

Which honestly wasn't that big of a surprise, but Peter was happy to say that he held his own, and it had been a really close race pretty much the whole time they ran together.

Peter was currently laying on the ground panting up at the slowly brightening sky, it was going to be a clear day today. Which was nice, because he planned on patrolling for a while later, he needed to clear his head. Though, his mind was pretty empty at the moment.

Steve chuckled from Peter's left, the man opting to sit on a bench instead of sprawling out on the cold ground like Peter had done. " _Uuuhhhggg_ ," Peter moaned, flopping an arm over his eyes as he stuck out his tongue. "You've beaten me you mighty man of men. You, Captain America, have officially squashed the spider." Peter panted, making sure he sounded as dramatic as his voice would allow, "Now I require nourishment!" He called out, letting both arms flop out to his sides, making it look as if the teenager was attempting to make a snow angle on the cement.

Cap stood before he lightly tapped the top of Peter's head with the toe of his shoe. "Alright son," He smiled, shaking his head amusedly at the teenager, before sticking out a hand for Peter to take. "Breakfasts on me."

* * *

"It's only two days away." Peter moaned in despair. Smacking his palms to his face and shifting on his place on the ceiling.

Bruce gave a breathy chuckle, "I am aware yes." He replied dully, tinkering with some sort of doohickey that Peter couldn't be bothered to remember the name of. It was _important_ science stuff, we'll leave it at that.

"That's just…so close." Peter breathed, dragging his hands down his face and staring down at Bruce with a pinched expression. "I don't think I thought this all the way through."

Bruce took in a breath, setting down his device softly on the metal table. The man then looked up at the teenager sitting cross-legged on the white ceiling of the lab. Before giving a soft smile, "You thought it through. You're just scared of the consequences." He said, not unkindly his brown eyes soft.

Peter tapped on his knee, feeling the need to wiggle some of his nerves away. He shifted, giving a slight shrug as he watched Bruce. "But…what _are_ the consequences?" Peter asked he had been asking himself the same question for a few days now. "I sure as heck don't know. And my not knowing means I can't make an informed decision, so clearly that would mean I have _not_ thought all of this through."

Bruce hummed, listening to Peter's anxious chatter before slipping off his glasses and looking back at the teenager with a soft expression. "Sometimes…" He began before huffing and rubbing at his temple. "Sometimes we just have to take a leap of faith..." He said, "Life isn't black and white, _I_ know that, and I know that _you_ know that. Life is messy, it's chaotic, and something that we cannot control. But that isn't necessarily a bad thing."

Peter caught Bruce's eye, it might've been odd to most, having to make eye contact with someone that was upside down. But that wasn't something uncommon or even considered abnormal at this point. The team was all used to Peter's weird habits by now, but the thing was, it didn't feel _weird_.

At least not in the Tower. Before even when Peter had been happy and living with his Aunt May, he had still hide that part of himself. Those seemingly simple things, like doing his homework on the ceiling, or eating three pizzas by himself would have been considered odd, and his Aunt wouldn't have been able to understand. _Not that that was her fault_. Peter should have told her about his spider self, he knew that now…

But here, Peter didn't have to hide any part of himself. He could just be _Peter_. _Peter_ the dorky kid that liked science and mathematics. _Peter_ the teen that could stick to walls and lift a city bus over his head. _Peter_ the guy that liked pulling pranks and watching cartoons. He got to be all aspect of himself now.

It was a little bit exhilarating every time he thought about it. The fact that he went from hiding away from the whole world, and living without any friends or family. To this, a team of a bunch of caring misfits, that loved him for every characteristic that made Peter, _Peter_.

So, really, when Peter thought about it, maybe this would turn out alright. This whole unmasking thing. Because sure, Peter was a _little bit_ scared, (okay, _really scared)_ to give up his secret identity. But what did it matter as long as he got to keep all of this?

Maybe it would be hard, and maybe life would be a bit rough for a while. It wasn't like Peter hadn't gone through much worse things, but the difference this time would be that he had people watching his back. He had people to rely on and loved ones that he could talk to. He had a home now.

So yeah. Maybe this whole identity reveal would be fine.

"We take risks all the time." Bruce went on, Peter rubbed a hand through his unruly hair, bringing himself back to his current conversation. "This is another one of those risks. It could turn out messy and chaotic because that's life. We don't know how things are going to turn out, but that's what makes life exciting, that's what has made us who we are today. Not knowing, taking those risks, even without all the information…while it might not the most logical thing, (which doesn't make it a bad thing either.) It's just something we all have to do sometimes. Like I said, it's a leap of faith." Bruce gave a slight shrug at that, slipping his glasses back on as he went back to his work.

Peter hoped he was right.

* * *

"You are going down children!" Clint yelled, shifting on the couch so his elbow was pressing into Peter's side. The tip of his tongue sticking out in concentration, his thumbs going crazy on the controller as he swerved around Peter's character.

" _Nay_ , it is _I_ , Thor, who shall triumph over the Kart of Mario." Thor boomed as he threw a red shell at Clint's character _(Waluigi)_ laughing as he passed the purple character and a few others.

Clint yelped as Waluigi spun around, trying to get control of his character again, and jostling the teenager beside him in the process. Peter laughed as he shoved the Archer right back. Before _"Freakin fudge!"_ Peter cursed as he saw Thor _(or Bowser)_ coming up behind him. "NO! Don't do it Thor! I swear to-" And then Peter was hit with a fireball and Thor was zooming by.

"You evil creature!" Peter yelled as he jumped up, now standing on the couch and wiggling as he tried to catch up with Thor. Thor laughed, leaving a banana behind and then zooming forward with a boost of speed.

Clint drove up a moment later, throwing a shell at Peter's character (Peach) and laughing as he raced off, "How dare you do that to the princess?!" Peter screeched, watching as Princess Peach spun in place, leaving Peter in third.

"You ain't no princess of mine," Clint said as he shoved at Peter's wiggling legs, throwing Peter off balance slightly. Peter kicked at him with one foot, the two batting at each other with uncoordinated limbs as they tried to catch up to Thor in the video game.

"Hey Peter, can I talk to you?" Someone called from behind the shouting trio. Peter tipped his head back so that he was looking upside down at the person. Sam was standing there looking amused with raised eyebrows.

"Uh, sure," Peter said before dropping his controller onto Clint's legs, (Causing the blond to swear at him) and then doing a slightly sloppy backflip off the couch and landing on his toes. Peter gave an overexaggerated smile as Sam rolled his eyes at the teenager's showing off.

"S'up my buddy old pal?" Peter asked, rocking on the balls of his feet as he looked Sam over. The man was wearing dark jeans with a button up shirt and a black jacket looking ready to go somewhere. Which was kind of weird, because Peter didn't remember Sam saying anything about leaving the Tower today, and Sam usually told Peter that kind of thing.

"I was wondering if you'd like to grab a cup of coffee with me?" Sam asked, leaning slightly on his crutches and sighing as he took some pressure off of his broken leg. Peter clenched his teeth, his eyes scanning over Sam's face for any signs of discomfort. The images of how Sam's leg had gotten broken in the first place playing in Peter's mind and making him want to curl in a ball.

The teen shook his head to himself swallowing down the grimace he knew he was on the verge of making, and smiling up at Sam instead. "Are you asking me out on a date?" Peter teased in a syrupy voice. Batting his eyes up at the man, and pointing a foot out behind him as he clasped his hands together.

Sam glared, giving Peter a look that said he was _not amused_ by the joke, before saying, "You can flirt with Barton all you want, but do it with me and I'll kick your butt." In a deadpanned tone.

Peter's face scrunched up as he crossed his arms over his chest. "You're no fun." He mock-pouted before perking up again. "So, are we going to Common Room Café?" Peter asked, feeling a little bit excited at the prospect that just _he_ and Sam were going to go out together.

Mostly the whole group of Avengers would go out if they went anywhere, (unless it was something boring like going to the grocery store…But Peter did have to admit, it had been really fun last time Peter and Nat went for a candy run down at a random Walgreens) which was cool, going out in such a big group was entertaining and a little chaotic at best, but Peter enjoyed it.

He enjoyed that he got to be a part of the group. He enjoyed feeling he belonged to these people. He enjoyed knowing that he was wanted somewhere. He enjoyed the contentedness he experienced when he was included on this team.

But still, being able to leave the Tower for a little while and just hang out with Sam _one on one_ was a bit rarer now, (especially since Sam's leg was broken and he couldn't leave the Tower as much as before) so Peter couldn't help but be excited to just be with Sam. Even if it was only for an hour or two.

"Yu _p_ ," Sam popped the P at the end, "Common Room's got the best coffee, and it's never very crowded."

The _Common Room Café_ was this awesome little hole in the wall that the Avengers had stumbled across a few weeks ago. It was small, with mismatching chairs and tables, a few carpets on the floor that somehow clashed and tied the room together all at the same time.

But Peter's favorite part had to be that the coffee shop had dozens and dozens of different pictures on the walls, photos and art drawn or taken by local people that had given it to the shop to hang up for decoration.  
The pictures were all for sale too. So the walls were constantly changing, old art being sold, and new pictures going up to replace what had been bought.  
Peter had been itching to get some of his pictures up on the walls. But he hadn't asked because that would be depriving someone else of the chance of making a few extra bucks. And Peter wasn't hurting for money anymore, so really there was no point of putting up _his_ pictures other than the fact it would be _really, really,_ cool.

The Common Room Cafe felt homey in a way. (Probably why it was named what it was) It's clutter and ununiform atmosphere making it feel relaxed and low-key, the lights dimmed to a dull yellow, and the music soft and without words. Peter really liked it there.

"I'll go get my shoes."

* * *

The coffee shop wasn't crowded, probably because it was in the middle of the day on a Thursday, and most people worked, but there were a scattered few.  
Kim (the team's favorite barista) wasn't here on Thursdays, which sucked because Peter got along with her fairly well, but whatever, he'd just have to come back later for more coffee.

Darn, Kim…Now Peter would have to walk all the way down here and drink delicious coffee while sitting in his favorite café, _enjoying_ himself… _How dare her_ …

Peter smiled as he set down his and Sam's mugs, Peter's being a yellow and black stripped one that looked a lot like a bumble bee, and Sam's being a red and black polka dotted one that looked kind of like a lady bug.

Peter wanted to steal the mugs…

But he wouldn't…

Because that would be _bad_ …

Peter jiggled his leg as he glanced out the window, lifting up his monstrous mug and taking a tentative sip from it, getting a little bit of whipped cream on his nose in the process.

It was a foggy day out, little raindrops falling on the cement outside in lazy and slow patterns. Peter watched a big raindrop on the window as it swallowed a few others drops on its journey down the glass.

Sam cleared his throat from across the table, bringing the teenager out of his thoughts. Peter glanced back to the dark-skinned man, giving a toothy grin, "Yeah?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

Sam took in a deep breath, "I wanted to talk to you about the _unmask-…"_ The man trailed off, waving his hand around as if searching for the right word. " _Adoption_ thing." He amended a moment later.

Oh.

Peter had thought everyone was on board with his revealing himself as Spiderman. There had been a _very long_ discussion about it. One that went from dinner time and into the night, the team sprawled out in the living room surrounded by takeout boxes and all rattling their brains for a better option.

There had been suggestion that Peter just fabricate a fake identity. _Nat did it, Clint had done it,_ it wouldn't be hard to do. Not with Tony's resources, just a few fake documents, and a few false files written up, and Peter could be a new person. One with a different past.

But Peter didn't want to do that. He didn't want to be someone else, even if it was just on paper. He didn't want to lie. And he sure as heck didn't want to give up the Parker name. That was the _last thing_ he had from his family, and he would fight with bloodied fingers to keep it.

So, that little idea had been rejected pretty quickly.

Someone else had brought up the point that Tony wasn't the only one that could adopt Peter. But like it had come up before with Tony, there was a lot of problems and different outcomes that decision could have.

All the Avengers (save Sam and Peter) were known by the world. Their identities were not a secret, and therefore the same problems that had come up before _(possible danger to a child, unstable environment, not a suitable home for a growing youth, yada, yada, yada)_ would be brought to their attention (again) if they were to try for custody with a new guardian.

Potentially, Sam could adopt Peter, if he was willing to keep his superheroing as Falcon a secret. The man hadn't seemed reluctant at the idea, (which pleased Peter deep down in his chest for some odd reason) but there would be a lot of tiptoeing and lying in order for that to succeed.

They would have to make a _sort of_ fake identity for Sam if that were to work. He would still be _Sam Wilson_. But they would have to lie about his home address (because clearly, he wouldn't be living in the Avengers Tower if he was some random guy) They would have to also fabricate a job (or at least a way of income) and just a bunch of other things Peter didn't want to get into.

In all honestly it could work, it was their best plan aside from Peter unmasking.

But there would be a lot of lying involved. And Peter didn't want Sam to lie for him. He didn't want Sam to have to do more for him than he already had. Especially when it would all be for a secret identity that Peter no longer required. His mask wasn't protecting anyone anymore, it was unneeded, and it was time for it to go.

Peter shifted, running his finger over the rim of his mug as he let out a sigh, "I know that maybe it isn't the greatest idea, but I think, considering all our options," Peter lifted his eyes up to Sam's, brown meeting brown. "It's the best choice out of the bunch."

"I wasn't going to try to talk you out of it," Sam said, leaning a little bit forward so that he could squeeze Peter's wrist. "But I do want you to know, that if you don't want to go through with it, I am completely willing and _ready_ to adopt you." His words were spoken softly, just barely said above the melody of the music, but Peter heard them loud and clear. "All you have to do is just say the word."

The teen hummed, a weaker way to shove that lump that was forming in his throat down. "I…Thank you, Sam," Peter said just as gently, pulling on the man's thumb before giving his larger hand a soft pat in a way of affection. "But, I…I do want to go through with it. I don't want to back down."

Sam pulled his hand away, leaning back in his chair as he gave a smile. "That's what I thought you would say." He said, looking both proud and maybe a little sad at the same time. But Peter didn't know why Sam would be sad, so perhaps Peter was just projecting things onto Sam's face that weren't really there. "Which brings me to what I wanted to talk to you about in the first place." Sam finished a moment later.

"Shoot," Peter responded, bringing his bumble bee mug up and gulping a few sips down.

"Well, I know that this whole thing is a bit nerve-racking for you. And I don't want you to have to go it all on your own." Sam said, a slight smile on his lips. "So I was thinking what if I unmasked with you?"

Peter felt his mouth open and shut a few times, his brain processing what Sam had just said. "W-what?" He finally got out.

"On Saturday, you will be introduced as a new member of the team. Which still needs to happen for me." Sam looked a little amused now, leaning back slightly in his chair as he slung one arm on its back and took his mug with his other hand. "So, to take the pressure off, I thought that I could be announced too and that I would also come out as Sam Wilson. Won't be as big as _your_ unmasking, _hell_ , no one even knows who Falcon _is_. But I thought it might help that you aren't up there alone."

Peter had no words, his brain was sizzling inside of his head. "You-you would do that?" He asked, feeling gratefulness welling up inside of his chest, it warmness filling up his body and making him about burst.

"Crouse I would," Sam said easily, winking at Peter good-naturedly. "You think it's a good idea?" He asked with a raised eyebrow. "It's totally up to you."

"Yes." Peter breathed. "A-as long as it's okay with you that is…then, then yes, please. I love you, man, I could kiss you."

Sam laughed, "Maybe not while we're in public."

* * *

"I think I'm going to throw up." Peter moaned, placing gloved fingers over his masked mouth as his stomach rolled with his nervousness.

"Make sure to aim that way," Clint responded, pointing away from himself and towards Tony. The billionaire glared with an eye roll at the Archer. But made no comment otherwise.

They were backstage, of some huge building, it could be a cinema, or a ballroom, or maybe it was a conference center; Peter couldn't really remember what it actually was. All he knew was it was filled with a _lot_ of people.

Spidey could hear them, his enhanced senses going haywire as he lost a bit of his control of his powers as his anxiety built up inside of his chest and started crawling up his throat. Their chattering, the rustling of clothes, and the clicks of cameras, he could hear it all. Well, who couldn't? All that stood between the Avengers and the crowd was a thick red curtain strung up from the ceiling.

Spidey wrung his fingers together, feeling jittery, and oh so on edge. He bounced in place slightly, his stomach doing flip flops inside of him. He wasn't sure why he felt so panicky, he had no one to protect. The mask was only there for his loved one's safety in the first place. But the mask _hadn't_ protected them, it _hadn't_ kept them safe, the flimsy piece of spandex had done _nothing_ to keep them alive, to keep them here with Peter.

It shouldn't be a big deal to take it off. It had been proven time and time again that the mask was of no use to Peter now. But for some reason, it was as if Peter was about to rip off his own skin and let the whole world see him in all his raw and vulnerable glory. It was exhilarating and terrifying at the same time. Peter didn't know how he felt about that.

A small hand landed on Spidey's shoulder giving a slight squeeze, Peter looked up and into Nat's green eyes, knowing that even though she couldn't see his own brown ones she would know what they must hold. _Unease, panic, anticipation, indecisiveness._

"You're going to do fine." She nearly whispered, it was said just for Peter; her words soft, but reassuring all the same. The teenager took in a deep breath trying to ground himself, nodding his head in lieu of an answer.

"Yeah," Bruce came over a moment later, clapping Peter on the shoulder as Natasha let go of him. "You have nothing to be worried over, things will go fine, and even if they didn't, we're all going to be right there."

"Aye," Thor stood in front of the teenager, his cape billowing out behind him. "you will be magnificent." Thor's smile was wide and endearing, his fists placed on his hips in one of those really dorky and cliché superhero poses. Peter was pretty sure he did it on purpose.

"There really isn't anything to be ' _magnificent'_ at Thor," Peter said, a slight smile on his face, "All I have to do is rip off my mask." He shrugged as if indifferent, but some of the tension had already drained from the arachnid's shoulders.

Tony came up then, giving that trademark smirk of his, but there was something in his eyes that made it seem more sincere than normal. "You're going to be great kiddo." He reassured.

Peter hoped he was right…

* * *

Cap was talking; now _what_ he was saying, Peter had no idea. Steve was up at the podium on the stage, decked out in his Captain America uniform, (looking every bit the hero Peter had grown up reading about) with all the Avengers lined up behind him in their own uniforms. Falcon was to Spidey's side, which the teenager was thankful for.

Peter told himself to pay attention, to listen to Steve's speech, listen as he introduced Spiderman and Falcon as the two new Avengers and talked about how they were accepted on the team and would be fighting alongside them from now on.

Because for goodness sakes, this was a _Captain America speech_ , and Spidey should be flipping out right now, fanboying all over the place, because not only was he _present_ for said speech, it was about _him_. _About Spiderman becoming an Avenger_. (Which was like three different things that Peter could now cross off his bucket list, thank you very much)

But Peter's mind was whirling, his palms felt sweaty under his spandex, and suddenly with all those faces in the crowd, all those cameras and eyes pointed at him, his suit felt a little too tight. Which was funny, because he had never really felt that way before. His suit usually felt like an extension of himself, a second skin that let him move freely and allowed him to be unrestricted in his movements.

But now it felt a little stifling.

Sam gave Spidey's shoulder an almost nonexistent squeeze, and then he was moving forward, crutches and all; Peter watched as Falcon walked to Steve, turning to the crowd and taking off his helmet in one swift move. He didn't look _nerves_ or _out of breath_ , he didn't look _scared_ or _panicked_ , or any of the things that Peter felt right now. He looked calm and collected.

Peter kind of envied Sam in this moment.

Steve introduced Falcon or _Sam Wilson_ , and Sam might have said something too, but Spidey's ears were filled with cotton; and then Steve handed Sam an Avengers ID card, making sure that the audience could see the blue-tinted plastic as he handed it over. The ID was for show, they didn't use those cards, they were unneeded, unnecessary. But it made it more real for the public, like an initiation almost. And that was what this was about, the _people_ , the _audience_.

And then Steve was turning to Spiderman with those blue eyes, and Peter thought he might really puke this time, but instead, he swallowed down those butterflies and forced his shaking legs forward.

And then Steve was handing _him_ his ID card, the one with his picture on it, the picture Peter had taken only a few days ago. It felt weird like this was another really big step, not just as Spiderman, but as Peter Parker too. Even though the teenager already knew he was part of the team, even though he already knew he was accepted, taking this stupid piece of plastic made it feel all the more real.

The warm feeling that gave Peter was almost a good enough distraction for what he knew he needed to do next…Unfortunately, the teen's nervousness won out over his excitement. But that didn't matter, because there was only one thing left to do, and it was Peter's responsibility to do it…So with trembling fingers, Spidey grabbed the seam of his mask and began to pull. Sucking in a settling breath, and telling himself to be brave.

The moment the mask slipped off to reveal messy brunet hair and wide brown eyes, Peter's sense came back to him in full focus and he was suddenly blinded by the many, many, flashes from cameras, his ears taking in the sounds of the crowd as they erupted with a roar of questions, their sound making Spidey feel jittery. Peter's senses were going crazy, his head felt fuzzy, and the teenager was sure he would have fallen over if not for his sticky feet.

But instead of letting it show, instead of showing how utterly nervous and panicked he felt, Peter gave a small smile and a shrug saying the first thing that came to mind. "Hey everyone."

* * *

 _ **Two things-**_

 **One; Thank you all so much for your comments! Seeing that so many of you have been waiting for this really made me happy.**

 **Two; Just thought I should give a heads up, that this story (much like the last) will have a good amount of domestic stuff (good and bad) before we get into the action.**

 **Ocky docky, thanks so much for reading, I will see you all next week! ;)**


	3. Chapter 3

**I have no excuse for why this is late...I just am a sucky human...We will leave it at that.**

* * *

 **Chapter 3:**

The questions had turned into a roar in Peter's ears. Too many voices mixing together as the crowd began shouting in their excitement. Their words yelled over the top of each other making it near impossible for the teenager to decipher what was being said.

Peter now sat on his couch watching what had only taken place a few hours ago, under the safety of his fuzzy blanket, a bowl of popcorn and a jar of peanut butter sitting in his lap. The lights were off, letting the TV's light aluminate the teenager's living room, up on the 90th floor.

"Hey!" TV-Tony marched up to the podium taking the lead away from Steve, waving two metal hands in the air as he tried to settle the audience, it all looked a lot less daunting up on the screen. "Give the kid some time to breathe." The billionaire waited for the crowd to quiet down a bit before he began speaking again. "Alright, Spiderman will be taking a _few_ of your questions, before we leave." He informed the crowd, before taking a step back and gesturing for Spidey to come speak up at the stand.

Peter huffed a breath from his place on his couch. Dipping some popcorn in his peanut butter and stuffing it his mouth a bit angrily, smearing some on his face in the process. It wasn't like he hadn't _known_ he would need to speak to the crowd. Because it would have been _downright stupid_ to think the people of New York wouldn't have questions, now that one of the city's most dearly held secrets had just been revealed. But Peter hadn't realized how absolutely terrifying it would be to face all of New York City without his mask to provide a barrier for him.

TV-Peter walked to the podium on what couch-Peter knew where very unsteady legs, even if it didn't really look it on camera, (and _thank god for that)_ As soon as the teenager made it in front of the microphone the audience started yelling questions again, although the crowd was less obnoxious this time.

TV-Peter looked a little unsettled, his eyes wide and his fingers gripping to the wood of the podium tensely. Peter could still remember the butterflies in his stomach, could recall how they fluttered inside his chest and threatened to crawl up his throat in what he knew might be _very real_ , and _very gross_ vomit.

"Uh," TV-Peter began, making sitting-on-the-couch-right-now-Peter wince _. Very eloquent Pete, always a good way to start off while on national television. A round of applause for this one…_ Oh, and that was sarcasm by the way. "I'll, uh, I'll take your question," TV-Peter said as he pointed to an Asian woman with long black hair standing behind a few different people.

"How long have you been Spiderman, _officially?"_ The woman asked, her green glasses slipping down her nose ever so slightly as she readied her pen over her notepad.

TV-Peter puckered his lips in thought. "I…well, I mean if you're asking when I became Spiderman _, as in threw on the red and blue_ , then almost two years ago,"

A man with blond hair and dark skin held out a voice recorder then, (which Peter remembered thinking was _ridiculous_ because this whole thing was on _live television_ , why did this guy need his own recording?) Before the man asked, "Could you elaborate on that? Were you fighting crime even before, _as you said_ you 'threw on the red and blue'?"

TV-Peter shifted uncomfortably up on the screen. Peter remembered how out of place he had felt up on that stage in front of so many people, with the Avengers behind him all silently giving their support, everyone's eyes on him; and watching the event on his television right now, in the middle of the night in his living room, the teenager couldn't say he had changed his mind either.

"Well…" The teen on screen began, "I guess a few months before I made the suit I had just run around in a hoodie and jeans." TV-Peter gave a hesitant shrug at his own words. Peter scooped some peanut butter onto his pointer-finger and stuck it in his mouth (Sam would be appalled) he didn't like how transparent he looked up there on the screen, he looked uncertain, he looked uncomfortable, he looked _inexperienced_.

Had the mask really hid all of that? Because Peter hadn't thought so. He hadn't considered how he would look to all those people bare faced and vulnerable. Because looking at himself now, Peter was sort of surprised that no one had guessed his age before the unmasking. His voice wasn't fully developed, his pitch changing and cracking with his anxiousness; and he was in _dire need_ of a growth spurt, being that he was somewhere around 5'5 tall, and he looked even shorter when standing next to the Avengers.

And sitting here now, Peter couldn't help but face the sort of painful truth that he looked and maybe even acted, _very young_. Because when comparing all of the gossip and pictures, when looking over all the news and footage of Spiderman gathered over the years, and then looking at this right now, it showed a vast difference in the way that Spiderman and Peter Parker acted.

When Peter had had the mask on, he was witty and smart-mouthed, he could think logically while on the spot, and he hid his fear and indecisiveness very well. But Peter, well, _plain old Peter Parker_ , was a different story, he stuttered, he back tracked, and he fumbled while under pressure. It was a fact that Peter had forgotten about when he took off the mask.

And now looking at the TV-screen, Peter realized something…His mask hadn't just protected his identity. It had hidden away his childishness, sheltered away his vendibility, kept his youth and inexperience trucked away. And with it off, that was all on display for the world to see. Showing everyone, that really, Spiderman was nothing more than a kid.

Another woman sprang forward on the screen, the crowd getting excited and jittery now that their questions were being answered. "And how old were you when you first started running around in nothing but street clothes?"

TV-Peter rubbed his hands together, "I was a few months away from being fifteen."

The audience gave a rattling murmur at that, some people looking appalled, other's looking awed. TV-Peter hadn't known what to do with their reactions at that moment. "And how old are you right now?" Someone else asked.

"I'm sixteen," TV-Peter answered simply.

The questions had kept coming after that, barely leaving TV-Peter enough time before he had to answer the next. It had been a bit disorienting, and a _lot_ overwhelming. Peter could still recall the feelings he had felt in that moment, wanting to pull his mask back on and web himself away, away from prying eyes, away from the questions. Because it was all so fresh, so new, having to talk to people about who he was, not just as Spiderman, but as his true self, _as Peter._ It was something the teenager had never prepared for. It had never crossed his mind before Aunt May had died. And yet, here he was, only a few months later, and now Peter Parker and Spiderman were one of the same.

"How long have you had your powers?"

"Are you a _mutant_?"

"Why after all this time are you only _now_ joining the Avengers?"

"Are you the _only_ Spiderman?"

"Do you plan on taking responsibility for all the damage you have caused over the years?"

"What exactly _are_ your powers?"

Peter watched as his TV self, tried to answer the plethora of questions that he was bombarded with. Hardly finishing his answer to the previous before he had to move on the next. He fumbled a little, his gloved hands hidden behind the stand wringing themselves together in his nervousness.

"Do your parents know?"

The question so simple had caught Peter completely off guard. The teen on the screen stopped, his eyes wide as they settled on the large dark-skinned woman that had asked the question. Her expression something that TV-Peter hadn't been able to read, and one that sitting-on-the-couch-Peter still couldn't decipher.

Peter watched as his past-self blinked in a shock a few times before running a hand through his too long hair, making it stick up even worse than his mask had already. Looking at himself now, Peter kind of wished he had thought to get a haircut before he willingly showed his dorkiness to the whole world.

"I-" TV-Peter started, big brown eyes blown wide as he stared back at the woman. "No...No they didn't know." He said a bit softly, his eyes falling away from the woman to look down at the wood of the stand.

Peter felt the same shame he had felt then, creep on him now. That longing feeling to go back and change things, to be open with Aunt May from the beginning and just _tell her_. That want, that desire to fix things that can no longer be fixed settling in his gut like a cold rock making him feel heavy and a little bit sick.

The teenager huffed, picking up the remote and clicking the TV off a bit roughly, taking out his regret and sadness on the little button there. "I'm going to bed JARVIS," Peter called out to the AI, as he marched into his bedroom, his blue blanket billowing out behind him like a cape around his shoulders.

"Goodnight, Peter," JARVIS responded, sounding soft in the quietness of the apartment.

Peter would just clean up his popcorn and peanut butter in the morning…

* * *

Peter shot up from his covers with a jolt. His chest heaving up and down a bit rapidly as he ran a sweaty hand through his hair. The teenager blinked a few times, looking around his room to ground himself, to bring him back to where he was; there were a few colorful posters hung up over his dresser, smaller ones, of _himself_ as Spiderman, one of Iron Man, another of Captain America, then one of Hulk, and in the middle a much larger poster of all the Avengers. (Well, excluding Spiderman and Falcon, the team was scheduled for a photo shoot to include the two new members in all of their merchandise, in a week or so, Tony had said it would be good publicity)

Peter sucked in a large breath, holding it in his lungs for a moment before he let it out through his nose slowly. "Hey, Jay?" He rasped, his voice sounding a little hoarse from sleep.

Peter still had nightmares, they weren't as frequent as they had been before, and they were less graphic than they had been when he had people he needed to protect from his baddies. But they were still _there_ , the nightmares were persistent and even if they weren't completely horrific they still lingered in Peter's mind.

The dreams were making it hard for the teen to sleep, and because of them, what little sleep Peter _did_ get didn't feel all that restful. Sometimes the teenager wondered if it would be better to just stay up and not let himself sleep until he was absolutely exhausted. That way he wouldn't have the energy to dream.

But that little plan probably wouldn't pan out, because even if the adults didn't notice, (and that was a big ' _if_ ', because not only were Sam and Tony mother hens, but Natasha and Clint always had their eyes on Peter, not to mention the other adults that were trained to notice when something was up) and surely a certain _Artificial intelligence_ would notice, and that same Artificial intelligence was known for being a big _tattle tale_ , so yeah Peter would just have to figure something else out.

"Yes, Peter?" JARVIS answered, his robotic voice helping to bring Peter out of his swirling thoughts.

"Oh uh, could you open the blinds?" The teenager asked as he rubbed crusties out of his eyes, running his fingers through his nest of hair again, this time playing with the strands so he could get the tangles out.

"Of course," The AI replied, the blinds already lifting up to show a sunny day outside. It was nice being up this high in the Tower, it made it that Peter had a great view of his city, but it also allowed the teenager to see more than just the buildings that surrounded them, he could see the _sky_.

"Thanks, Jay," Peter smiled up at the ceiling, he never knew exactly where to look so that JARVIS could see him, but the AI still always seemed to. "Who's all up?" The teen asked as he stumbled out of bed, wiggling his foot to get it uncaught from his blankets.

"Everyone is present on the main floor, except for Thor who left the Tower quite some time ago, Ms. Potts who is working in her office, and Mr. Banner who is meditating on his own floor."

"Kay." Peter yawned around the single syllable, stretching his arms above his head and lifting up to his toes as he made it to his bathroom. "Imma take a quick shower." He told JARVIS as he kicked the door shut with his heel.

"Ms. Romanova has requested that I make certain you do not fall asleep while bathing. And I have taken precautions in order to do so." JARVIS informed the teenager.

Peter rolled his eyes, shucking off his shirt and turning on his rain-like-shower. (Yeah, he had a _rain-like-shower_ , and Peter even knew how to turn it on now…It only took him eleventy-million times to figure it out.)

The teen stepped under the spray humming to himself as the warm water helped ease the tension in his shoulders. He could already feel his eyelids drooping again as the steam filled his nose. The teen pressed his forehead to the tile with a sigh, "And what precautions would those be?" He mumbled sleepily at JARVIS in question.

Peter nearly jumped out of his skin as suddenly a song came blaring on his bathroom speakers, his head thumping on the wall as he choked in his shock. A moment later the teenager burst out laughing, as the lyrics came on.

 _"Rising up, back on the street, took my time took my chances."_

The teenager giggled into his hand, his shoulders shaking with his laughter. " _Oh-oh_ my god," He finally got out, the last of the tension draining from his body. "Did you pick this song?" He asked the AI.

The song turned down just a smidgen so that Peter could hear JARVIS reply, "I have created a whole playlist of songs to keep you conscious and motivated while you perform your morning routine."

 _"Don't lose your grip, on the dreams of the past, you must fight just to keep them alive!"_

Peter's smile was starting to hurt his cheeks, and he covered his lips again as he laughed even harder. _How was this his life?_

 _"It's the eye of the tiger it's the thrill of the fight, rising up to the challenge of our rival."_

Peter scrubbed at his mouth as he gave one last giggle, "Oh man," He breathed, reaching for his shampoo, "I love you JARVIS." He told the AI.

"And I you, Peter."

 _"And he's watching us all with the eye~ of the tiger!"_

* * *

Peter needed coffee.

And he needed it _right now_.

"Tony," He grouched as soon as he stepped out of the elevator. "Make me the _magical_ _potion_ _of life_."

"I am in the process of brewing up some more life-giving potion." Tony called from the kitchen, "I already made a pot, but these _heathens_ drank it all before I could even get a cup." He glared with the statement, and in a silent reply Natasha lifted up her mug and slowly took a sip, glaring at the billionaire over the rim.

Peter snorted to himself as he turned to the occupants of the living room. Sam and Clint were sitting next to each other on the couch a little bit of space between them. Awe, yes, Peter knew _exactly_ what to do with that little bit of room.

The teenager sprinted over before flinging himself over the couch and landing roughly on Clint's lap, making the man yelp in surprise. " _Freakin teenager."_ He grumbled as he flicked Peter's nose a bit too hard glaring down and Peter's smiling face.

Peter batted Clint's hand away snickering to himself as he calmly placed his legs on Sam's lap, being careful of the man's broken leg. Sam smiled as he placed a hand on Peter's ankle. "How much sleep ya get kid?" He asked, pulling on one of Peter's toes with the question.

Peter's face scrunched up as he wiggled his toes out of Sam's grip and held Clint's pinching fingers away from his nose, but then Clint swooped in with his other hand and pinched Peter's cheek _instead_ of his nose. Peter made a noise in the back of his throat as he now held both of Clint's arms away from himself…Clearly, Peter had not thought this through, he did not think there would be this much manhandling involved.

"Uhhhh," He started, ' _the language skills, with this one, were not_ _'_ … "Enough." He settled on. That wasn't a lie, he had gotten an _okay-ish_ amount of sleep…It just depended on what your definition of ' _enough'_ meant…

"And what is enough?" Sam asked, now running a finger up Peter's trapped foot, making sure the touch was light and feathery so that it would tickle all the more. (Peter wished he had worn socks)

Peter curled his toes as he tried not to laugh, his nostrils flaring with his effort, Clint was giving Peter _the eye_ , so the teenager leaned his head back so that he could see Steve. Cap was sketching something looking _very_ _serious_ and in _deep_ _concentration_.

So clearly, Peter interrupted him.

"What'ch'ya drawing _Cap'in_?" The teenager chirped. Batting his eyes at the blond even though Steve wasn't looking at him. Clint pinched Peter's nose again, Peter ignored the Archer.

"I am working on a sketch of Natasha," Steve said calmly. He stopped then, looking up at Peter with a raised eyebrow. "But you were just asking to evade a question."

Peter scoffed, placing a hand to his chest in mock outrage, _"I would never!"_

Natasha walked up then, somehow still looking menacing and put together in her Thor themed pajama pants and a black tank top. She sashayed her way to Steve, one hand on her hip and her other hand stretched out to the man, "Gimme," She said, wiggling her fingers at Steve.

The blond sighed but handed over his sketchpad. The redhead took it gently before flipping it around and sitting on the floor legs crisscrossed to give the unfinished drawing an inspection.

" _Peter~"_ Sam said in a singsong voice to get the teenagers attention. Peter rolled his head back so that he could look over at his friend. "How much sleep?" He asked again, giving Peter his own version of _the look._

Peter groaned, flopping an arm over his face in exasperation "Not with this again!" He said muffled into his elbow. "This line of questioning is _agonizing_ , it must wait until I have had _nourishment_ and _life-giving_ _potion_."

Peter yelped as not only were his feet attacked suddenly by wiggling fingers, but his exposed side as well. The teen arched his back, trying to get away from the vile fingers attached to his _evil_ friends. But it was no use while he was still in their _villainess clutches._ So ripping his feet away from Sam, Peter then launched himself off the couch and onto the ceiling.

The teen sat there panting for a moment, a hand over his chest before he glared down at his _ex-friends_. "You two are horrible people I hope you know." He informed as he readjusted himself on the ceiling. Sam gave Peter a cheeky smile and a shrug, as Clint winked up at the teenager.

"S'what you get for trying to avoid the question," Sam said, not sounding remorseful at all. Which was just rude, because they knew Peter didn't like being tickled, with his enhanced senses every touch to his skin was sensitive. _Jerkfaces._

"Yup." Clint continued, cracking his back with a push of his fists, as he got up from the couch and began to the kitchen. "S'not like we can't just ask JARVIS anyways." He said with an air of being nonchalant.

"How many hours of sleep did Peter get JARVIS?" Sam asked then.

"Approximately three hours and forty-seven minutes." The AI responded before Peter could protest.

Peter gasped, his mouth hanging open slightly as he glared at an unhidden camera. "Traitor." He hissed. "I feel this betrayal deep in my _cardiac muscle,"_ He said in mock sorrow, falling backward (or upward?) on the ceiling so that he was sprawled on his back, one of his arms thrown over his eyes as he clutched at his heart with the other. "Oh _JARVIS_ ," he cried, _"why you gotta do me like that?"_

There was a bit of snickering from below Peter, (which is what the teenager was going for) Before Tony came walking in with a mug in hand, "I don't think the kid needs caffeine, he seems to be doing just fine without it." He said as he plopped down on the couch next to Natasha, who had moved from the floor after giving Steve his drawing her approval.

Peter gave another loud gasp, sitting up so that he could glare at the billionaire, "I have not just been betrayed by one, but now _two_." He fake-whispered.

"Technically," Natasha began, twirling some of her red hair with her pointer-finger as she placed her legs on the coffee table. "Clint and Sam betrayed you before JARVIS or Tony did, which means not two, but _four_ people have betrayed you within five minutes."

Peter nodded his head in agreement. "This is a grievous day indeed." He mumbled, still pretending to be hurt.

"Indeed." Everyone in the room echoed in response.

* * *

Peter sat at the coffee table between Natasha and Sam's legs, his feet curled under him and his mouth tasting sweet with a fruit danish. He liked these mornings. The mornings when the team could lounge around and do nothing. The mornings when there was no required training or _'errands'_ to run. The mornings where they could relax and be _normal_.

Peter got a lot more of these mornings than he thought he would. And maybe you would think because they _weren't_ far and few between like the very well _could have been,_ the teenager would treasure them _less_. But that wasn't the case at all, Peter cherished these mornings whole heartedly.

Because _really_ , Peter hadn't thought he would have any mornings like this ever again. For so long the simple things were lost to him, gone and buried away with his family and friends. And back when Peter was homeless he had told himself, _tried_ to convince himself, that he was fine with that. That he didn't need to have those normal and everyday things.

But it had never worked. When that longing would hit like a punch to the stomach, Peter would do his best to shove it down, but it was still there, it never went away, it would linger down in his gut waiting to pop out again and make itself known.

Now, though, now Peter didn't have to endure those horrible feelings of want and desire. He didn't have too long for something he couldn't have. Because he had all he could want, he didn't need to daydream of what he wished his life could be. He had it all right here, right now on the common floor, surrounded by his friends.

"Give me the remote man," Clint said from his place in a beanbag chair, the Archer was laying upside down, his feet almost level with Steve's head. "let's find something to watch."

Tony threw the remote at Clint, making sure the thick plastic hit the man in the knee, "There you go Barton." Tony said cheerfully over Clint's swearing before heaving a sigh and standing up. "Anyone want more danishes?" The billionaire asked as he walked to the kitchen.

Everyone raised their hands then, waving them around and wiggling fingers in reply. Tony scoffed, "You are all going to eat me out of a home." He said even as he grabbed the whole box of baked goods.

"That is the plan," Nat said in a deadpan, Peter smiled down at the coffee table as she spoke. Peter loved Natasha's dry sense of humor. Before he had met the Black Widow the thought of her had kind of scared the crap out of the teenager. But actually, getting to know Natasha was anything but scary. Sure the spy could probably kill you with nothing but her thumb, but that was only if you were a _bad guy,_ and last time Peter checked, he wasn't a bad guy. Or so he hoped…

"I'd expect this from the growing munchkin," Tony said as he plopped down the box on the coffee table right in front of Peter. "But the rest of you are fully grown, or at least that's what I thought."

"Hey," Peter protested as he grabbed a danish, "who are you callin a _'munchkin'?"_ He whined at Tony, looking over to the man as he sat back down.

Tony rolled his eyes, "Sorry to break this to'ya kiddo, but you are shorter than _I am_ …and I am no Lebron James."

Peter scoffed, "W-well-well, _well at least there's hope for me_!" The teenager finally came back with, "I'm only _sixteen_ , and I could keep growing for another _five years!"_ Peter took a bite of his food then, nodding his head to himself, "And I'm going to place a guess and say that your older than twenty-one Tony, so sorry man, but you're stuck that way."

 _"Ohhhhh,"_ Sam hissed, snickering into his hand.

"Tony, I think you're going to need some ice for that wicked _burn_." Clint agreed a moment later.

Tony glared down at the younger, chewing on his own danish a bit angrily. Before he leaned down to the teenager's level and whispered, "Most adolescent boys stop growing at the age of sixteen, it's their muscles development that continues until they are twenty-one." He winked at Peter with the statement and then got up, calling over his shoulder, "I'm going to the lab," As he walked away.

Peter spluttered from his spot on the floor, twisting so that he could see Tony, "You take that back Tony! _Take it back!"_ He yelled at the man's retreating form.

Tony said nothing, just walked into the elevator with a smirk on his face and waved his hand at Peter as the metal doors slid shut in front of him.

Peter slumped back, sighing, a moment later he felt a light touch on his head, fingers playing with his unruly hair. "Don't worry," Natasha said, "You're probably just a late bloomer." Peter rolled his eyes with a groan. Why were they all like this? Why was _he_ like this? Why did he _like_ that they were all like this?

"In other news, the masked vigilante _Spiderman_ has unmasked himself as a sixteen-year-old boy, named _Peter Parker_." The TV caught Peter's attention as he heard his name. The teenager's head popped up from the cushion so that he could look up at the screen.

"The world is still in shock over the reveal." A woman with brown skin and big hair said as a picture of Peter appeared next to her face. It was an older one, back when Peter was still in school his black rimmed glasses on his face as he wore one of his favorite oversized sweaters. The teenager told himself not to think about where they must have gotten a hold of the photo.

"But that's not _all_ the world is shocked over." The other newscaster said then, a man sitting next to the woman that had previously spoken. His jaw sharp and his eyes seeming to stare right at Peter. "New York has been left in devastation as we unravel our beloved hero's tragic backstory."

Peter felt something inside of him squirm. He knew that people would dig through his past, there was no way they _wouldn't_. Tony, had of course, warned the teen of this fact, but this was part of the reason that Peter had unmasked in the first place, once the city found out he was a sixteen-year-old without any legal guardian, it would come out that Tony Stark was trying to adopt him, and then the people would help to put pressure on the court system so that Tony _could_ adopt Peter. This had been the plan. But that didn't mean it made the situation any more bearable.

"Peter Parker, also known as Spiderman, has not been orphaned once, but _twice_." The woman said then, leaning over her desk so that she could stare directly at the camera. "Young Peter Parker lost his parents Richard and Mary Parker in a plane crash, at just six years of age, leaving Peter to live with his only other living family members, Benjamin and May Parker."

"Unfortunately, though," The man took over then. Peter felt his chest burn, this was his life, but to them, to these people it was nothing but an interesting story to tell. "Our hero's suffering did not end there." Peter didn't like this, he didn't like how these people were spinning his story. His life wasn't a horrible tragic tale; sure, Peter had gone through more than most people do in a lifetime. But he wasn't bitter, he didn't dwell on the bad things that had happened to him, he took those hardships and he learned from them.

"Just ten years after the death of his parents Peter Parker's uncle was shot and killed." Peter bit his lip, _hard._ He didn't want people talking about his family as if all they were, was a death of a loved one to the famous _Spiderman_. They were so much more than that, _Ben_ was so much more than that.

"It seems that this is what inspired Peter Parker to become Spiderman in the first place. Evidence showing that not soon after the death of his uncle there were sightings of who we all have now come to know as Spiderman." The screen was now showing pictures of Peter and his family, ones of Ben and May, others of the crime scene of where Ben had been murdered. Peter felt sick.

"Not even a year later the teenager lost his girlfriend _Gwen Stacy_ while fighting Electro, not to mention her father Officer Stacy, who died in the battle against The Lizard, a few months before. Leaving not only the Parkers but the Stacy family devastated." Peter clenched his teeth, making his jaw creek, he hadn't thought they would talk about the Stacy family. He thought they would have left them out of it. They didn't need to see this, they didn't need the reminder of what they had lost, of what Peter had taken from them...

"And then," The man started, the pictures of Gwen's smiling face leaving the screen to show the two newscasters sitting at their desk, looking as serious as can be. "Only weeks from Peter Parker's sixteenth birthday, his Aunt, _May Parker_ , died of a heart attack." Peter's eyes burned, he blinked them a few times, trying to make any extra liquid go away before it could fully form.

Peter tuned the rest out, he knew they had moved onto his months of homelessness now. Knew that they were romanticizing the past year of his life. Making it seem worse than it was, trying to show their sorrow over something they had no right to be sorrowful over in the first place. This was pity and Peter didn't want anyone's pity.

Peter clapped his hands together, drawing himself up to his feet and patting Sam's casted leg as he stepped around the coffee table. "I'm gonna go out." The teenager said with the best smile he could muster at this moment.

Everyone was looking at him with assessing expressions, Peter knew that they could see right through him, knew that they would see he was upset. He just hoped that no one would call him out on it because he just really needed to be alone right now. He… _he needed to go swinging, needed to feel the wind enveloping his body, the adrenaline in his blood, the pound of his heart in his ears._

But really, if Peter was being fully honest. He just _really, really_ needed to punch somebody in the face right now _._

"Peter," Sam asked in a small voice, "are you alright?" Sam's eyes were warm, just like him, letting Peter know it was okay not to be alright, that it would be fine if he said he wasn't, that if he needed to talk about it, he could.

"I'm _great, fine, awesome!"_ Peter said a little too loudly, spinning around so that he was walking backward even as he made his way to the elevator. "Why wouldn't I be?!" He said with an oh so fake smile.

" _Kid-_ " Clint started to say, his head turned to the side making him look like someone had just kicked his puppy.

"Just a little stir crazy," Peter interrupted, "Gonna go out on patrol," He was in the elevator now, pressing the button so hard his finger hurt. "Don't wait up!" He called as the doors shut, drowning out any protests his teammates might have spoken.

"Peter my scanners indicate that you are-" JARVIS started to say, but Peter interrupted him.

"Not now JARVIS. Not now."

* * *

 **¯\\_(ツ)_/¯**


	4. Chapter 4

**Sorry about the wait guys. I didn't plan on my updates being so sporadic, but I guess I didn't take into consideration how rude my heart and lungs can be...**

 **So instead of my updates being _set_ _just_ on Saturdays, I'm going to let them switch from Saturday or Sunday. **

* * *

**Chapter 4:**

Why was it that when you needed someone to punch, there was never any trouble?

It was a really inconvenient thing to deal with, and Peter was going to petition to protest the lack of crime in the city in his time of need. Doesn't New York _know_ that Spiderman needs an outlet when he is angry? _He was a moody teenager after all. Com'on people, go rob a bank or something, help a spider-menace out here!_

The teenager twisted his body in the air to brace himself on the side of a skyscraper, the glass window underneath is feet rattled slightly with his impacted, making the middle-aged man sitting in the office inside gawk up at Peter in surprise. The teenager wiggled his gloved fingers at the balding man in a wave, as he began to crawl up the building.

If Peter couldn't get a much-needed adrenaline rush from fighting some random baddies, then he was going to find another way to get his blood pumping. Spidey made it to the top of the skyscraper within a few seconds, flipping himself to the top of the building and then holding his body on the edge in a slightly curved handstand.

A warm breeze blew against his spandex covered skin, causing a low whistling sound to filter into Spidey's ears. The teen's spider-sense was a low hum at the back of his skull, warning him of the fact that he could fall at any moment. (But of course, Peter _wouldn't,_ not unless he allowed himself to, the micro hairs on his fingers a sure way to keep his body in place)

The teen had left his comm back at the Tower. Spidey knew that he would be getting a _firm talking to_ from Cap because of his choice to do so too. The adults had asked Peter to wear the comm whenever he left for patrols, just in case, it was a _precaution_ a _protection_ , Peter knew that, and that is why Spidey had agreed.

The teen knew that he should have brought it along, it didn't matter what he was feeling or why he had left the Tower in the first place, he should have worn it anyway because that is what the Avengers _expected_ him to do. It's what they had asked of him, and they trusted Peter to hold up his end of the deal. Not taking the comm was stupid, and disobeying his friend's trust…

But really, if Spidey was being honest, he couldn't find it in himself to care of the consequences at the moment. Peter wanted to be alone right now. He didn't want to deal with anyone else, and he sure as heck didn't want to talk to anyone. And if he _had_ taken the comm, someone would have already tried to make contact with him.

The team knew that Peter was having a hard time with what was being displayed on the News and probably all over the internet, (Spidey had already seen multiple News Papers, with different versions of _his story_ on the front page, all with several angled pictures of his unmasked face at the press conference yesterday) it was obvious that Peter had not been happy when he had left the Tower over an hour ago. And that's why Spidey was certain one of (if not multiple) Avengers would have tried to talk to him by now.

The adults would call and try to calm Spidey down, maybe even offer to come out and patrol with him. Sam would suggest a movie or maybe even try to talk it out with Peter, or Tony would say that he needed the teen's help on a project in the lab, maybe Nat would call and ask Peter to spend some rare one on one time with her.

The point was, if Peter so much as _heard_ one of the Avenger's voices right now, he would have to listen, and then once they asked him to come home Peter would cave in, he'd end up going back to the Tower and then the team would help to take his mind off of the current events of his life. They would help pull him out of his shell, then they would make him laugh and smile they would make him _feel better._

And sure, Spidey would need that later. He would _need_ and _want_ the support and comfort that his new-found family would provide.

But right now, _right this very second_. Peter didn't _want_ to be comforted, he didn't _want_ to feel better. He wanted to brood and stew, he wanted to swing around his city looking for bad guys to punch in the face, he wanted to stay sad and angry, and he wanted to do it _alone._

Maybe that was selfish of Peter, to deny the help his friends wanted to give him. Maybe it was selfish of the teen, to take his anger out on some random bad guys. Maybe it was selfish of Spidey, but maybe _just for a few more hours,_ Peter could allow himself to be selfish.

A fluttering to Spidey's right caught the teenager's attention making the boy turn his head to the side in his upside-down position. There was a large pigeon to his right, the gray and slightly green bird giving him the evil-eye with its one eye (the other looked scratched out) from its perch next to the teen.

Peter cocked an eyebrow from under his mask. The one-eyed pigeon looked familiar for some odd reason, but that was kind of a dumb thought to have; there were more birds than _people_ in New York, it wasn't likely that Spidey had ever seen this particular bird before.

Peter turned away from the pigeon, still feeling it's beady eye on him. Spidey breathed out a huff as he closed his lids under the mask, letting his back curve so that his legs were bent backward, his feet dangling off the side of the building and almost touching his lower back as he started to fold in on himself.

His spider-sense gave a bit of a higher pitched ring at the movement. His heart starting to beat slightly faster. Peter sucked in another breath through his nose, letting his senses take over. The teen could hear the busy streets below, the honks of horns, the screech of tires, the slamming of doors.

That's when Spidey heard it, the distant blaring of a car horn, the screaming of police sirens, and the yells of people.

Peter let himself drop, his spider-sense blaring inside of his skull as he let the micro hairs on his fingers retract so that his dangling feet would pull him toward the ground with the help of gravity. The teen kept his eyes closed for a few moments. Letting the sound of the wind drown out everything around him, letting his stomach swoop inside of him and burst with butterflies, letting his body tingle with an adrenaline rush he had been craving for hours now.

And then, with a high-pitched shriek from his spider-sense warning him of the fast-approaching street Spidey shot out a web and pulled himself up, whooping as he flew over walking pedestrians, all of their heads turned up to stare shocked at the web-slinging hero.

There were calls from the people below, shouts of both Peter's real and superhero identity. Someone tried to throw a hotdog at him, Spidey wasn't sure if that was because they were angry with him, or if it was to get his attention. Maybe they just thought he should have a snack.

But whatever the case, the flying hot dog missed the blue and red hero by a landslide, he was speeding by too fast, shooting out web after web, letting his body twist and turn as he approached the sound of the sirens.

The teen could hear them getting closer as what sounded like a car chase ensued, he and the cars both racing towards each other to meet somewhere in the middle. It was a clear day out, the sun shining down on Spiderman and reflecting off of his eye lenses.

People had asked Peter if he was going to bother wearing the mask now that he no longer needed too. _Now that everyone knew who lay beneath the thin layer of spandex._ Peter had said something about _being too attached to it,_ teased that _it completed his outfit,_ made a joke about how _it kept the wind out of his eyes while web-slinging._

And while _yes_ , those things were all true. The mask made Peter feel stronger, it made him feel like more than just _dorky Peter Parker_. Even though people now knew who was _under the mask_ , that didn't change that while Peter was wearing it, he was a powerful person, he was a hero, he was _Spiderman._

The mask also gave Peter anonymity in a way. While fighting, people wouldn't be able to tell what he was thinking, his big bug like eyes were untelling, his mask shielding his features away, it made him slightly intimidating, but it also made it that no one could tell what Peter was feeling. No one would know when he was afraid or hurt, no one would know when he was scared or panicking.

So yes, Spidey would continue to wear his mask.

Though he would be keeping his reasons to himself.

The blaring of the sirens was just around the corner of a tall skyscraper, Spidey let his feet slam down on the building, now running horizontal along the side of it, scaring the people inside as his booted feet leaped across their windows.

Then the teenager saw it, a large green garbage truck was racing down the street, slamming into taxies and cars or anything else that was in its path of destruction. People ran screaming, trying to get out of the way before they were also run over by the fast-moving vehicle.

The police were racing after the truck, their warnings to _'stop'_ and _'surrender'_ said loudly over the intercom atop their cop car. But they weren't going to catch up to the garbage truck unless they were willing to _hit fleeing pedestrians_ , which they were _not_ , so it was up to a _certain bug-eyed hero_ to save the day.

Spidey flung himself forward at just the right moment, shooting out a web and pulling himself towards the large green truck. As the teen slammed into the side of the vehicle he couldn't help but wonder what was going on. _Why were the police chasing after a garbage truck? What had the garbage man done? Was he even a_ real _garbage man?_

So many questions…So little time…

Peter crawled up to the passenger's window, finding two different people sitting in the front. A man dressed in full black was driving and a woman in a matching outfit, sat at the passenger seat. (Which was _really stupid,_ why were they dressed in full black? It was the _middle of the day!_ Seriously what was _wrong_ with people?)

Peter tapped on the window, "Friendly neighborhood Spiderman here!" He yelled through the glass, making both heads snap to him. With a sharp warning from Peter's spider-sense, the woman suddenly pulled up a gun and shot at the window, shattering the glass and spraying bullets at the teenager. Spidey gave a slight yelp as he sprang to the roof.

"Now that was just _rude!"_ He yelled down before swinging himself into the now glassless window. "No _real_ garbage woman would do such a thing you, _fraud!"_

The woman tried to shoot at him again, shoving the gun forward and pulling the trigger in a fast move, but Spidey was faster, pushing the gun up with the palm of his hand so the bullets shot a few holes into the roof of the truck instead of Spidey's head. (Which he was thankful for)

" _Judy!"_ The man yelled from his seat, his voice rough and angry, "You can't kill the freakin kid!" He swerved the vehicle at that moment, making Peter lose his balance slightly and cut his elbow on the remaining glass in the window. "He's the Avengers new _boy toy_ ; you kill'em and then we'll have the whole group hunting us down!"

Peter's breath caught in his throat, the term _'boy toy'_ ringing in his ears for a moment. _Is that what people thought? Did people actually think that Peter was—that the Avengers were-_

The woman shoved the butt of the gun into Spidey's abdomen then, a growl coming from her throat, "Don't say my name, you _idiot!"_ She snapped at the man. The sharp pain in Peter's belly brought him back to the present, and with a quick move he seized the gun from her and bent it in half, throwing it at the man's head like a makeshift boomerang and then punching the woman in one swift move.

The two cried out, the man falling unconscious, while the woman started to hiss her curses at Spidey, but Peter didn't care. He was done here, the teen webbed the man's hands to the wheel and the woman to her seat before he promptly plucked the keys from the ignition and made sure the truck didn't hit anyone as it slowed down.

A moment later Spidey hopped out of the now dead truck, plopping down to the cement and dusting himself off as he walked toward the approaching cop cars. He felt a little sick, the things that that man had insinuated making the teenager's mind spin in a whirlwind of anxiety-inducing thoughts.

But Peter shoved those feelings down, he came out here to get his mind _off of_ his troubles, not to contemplate even more of them.

Spidey clapped his hands together as he approached an officer, the two police cars now stopped and the officers getting out to apprehend the baddies. "The garbage men are webbed up and waiting for your _disposal_ ," Spidey said to the four police officers, pointing a thumb over his shoulder to indicate the garbage truck. "Hehe, _get it_? _Disposal?"_ Peter wiggled his eyebrow even though no one could see it. "It's word play…I was playing with words."

Two of the officers walked passed Spidey then, not acknowledging his hilarity whatsoever as they made their way over to the truck, the teenager shrugged, eh, what are you gonna do? Not everyone appreciates how comical Spidey is.

One cop was doing something in their car and another (a tan-skinned man with black hair and a dorky handlebar mustache) came over to Spidey, clapping a hand too the teen's shoulder in a way of greeting.

"Thank you, for your help Spiderman." The officer said then, looking down at the teenager as he spoke. His words made his mustache move up and down, it looked oddly funny, but Peter didn't say anything. Because he had these things called _manners_ …or at least he did sometimes.

"What were they even doing?" Peter couldn't help but ask, Spidey was curious to know what exactly the couple had done in the first place. Or why they were driving a garbage truck of all things.

"The duo robbed a few different apartments before we got there, somehow getting a hold of this truck and then piling everything they could into its container," Mustache-cop informed Peter.

The teenager cocked an eyebrow as he crossed his arms over his chest, "What the heck is wrong with people?" He couldn't help but wonder aloud. Sometimes Peter was sorry to call himself a human…Because well, humans were kind of dumb sometimes…

"Hey, uh, I was wondering," The mustache-cop began, his hand slipping away from Peter's shoulder to dig in his pocket instead. "Would you mind taking a picture with me?" He asked. Peter was about to shrug and say yes, he took pictures with plenty of people, but then the man continued, "Y'know _without_ the mask?"

Spidey didn't know why he felt a ball of dread form in his gut at the request, why the question made him feel so uncertain. But it _did_.  
Logically Spidey knew that he could take off the mask in public now, everyone knew who he was, there was no more hiding. But at the same time, it didn't feel right. Taking off his mask in in the open, for a picture no less.

"Uh," Peter began, his mouth feeling dry as he wrung his fingers together anxiously. But before the teen was able to get out a full reply the other officer slammed the door shut to the cop car, before marching over to her partner and Spiderman.

"No, he needs to leave." She said, a hand on her hip the other coming up to point at Spidey. "And no picture taking on the job Harrison, it's unprofessional." The middle-aged woman chastised her younger partner. Her green eyes came over to stare at Peter then, her glare was sharp, but her pinched lips and slightly moist eyes didn't look angry, they looked sad. The teenager wasn't quite sure why she would be wearing such an expression, they had _caught_ the bad guys, everything was okay now.

"You need to go home." She said, her tone held no room for argument, "You're too young for this. You shouldn't be out here." She finished as her hands came up to cross over her chest. "I don't care if you're an _Avenger_ , I don't care if you have _superpowers_ , you are a _child_ , and I do not work with children."

Her words were unexpected and because of that, they stung all the more. Making Spidey take a shocked step back from the phantom smack they caused him before he realized what he was doing.

"Go." The woman began again, pointing away from herself, "Go home…" She paused then, giving the teenager a slightly watery look, "Go home, _Peter_."

The teenager pinched his lips together, willing himself not to say anything, not to make this odd and confusing situation any worse than it already was. His insides felt cold, the use of his real name making him feel a little off kilter. Spidey backed away a few more steps, biting his lip before giving a sharp nod in response and shooting off a web without a word.

* * *

Peter was laying on the edge of a rundown bakery, his back pressed too the smooth surface of the roof as he let one of his legs dangle off the side and rub against the worn brick of the building. His mask lay beside him, it's lenses reflecting the light of the sun and shining onto Peter's hand, the teen played with the beam of sun, wiggling his fingers through it and watching as it moved around.

The one-eyed pigeon had found him again, its beady eye staring at the teenager as he lay there eating an eclair filled with vanilla pudding. Spidey hadn't felt like looking for any baddies after his run in with the garbage men and then that one officer.

So, he had gone into a little hole in the wall bakery to ask for a doughnut. Peter had only been in the shop maybe five minutes before people started piling in, asking for his picture and autograph, others glaring at him and a few looking slightly sad.

Peter had put on a smile and indulged them, hugging and high-fiving random people and doing peace signs and even rolling his mask up a bit so he could stick his tongue out at different cameras.

He had still felt a little sick after the whole thing with the police officer. The words _'I don't work with children,'_ rattling around in his brain even worse than the words _'boy toy'_ had.

Peter felt unnerved and a bit raw under the city's stare. And what he was learning were some very interesting and vast opinions on him. The teen wasn't sure how to gauge people's reactions anymore. Some treated him like some sort of celebrity, while others still thought of him as a menace, (which _granted,_ wasn't much different from before) but then there were the people that stared at him with sad eyes. Just like that one police officer had.

And that right there, _that_ was the reaction that was catching Peter off guard, it was those people he didn't know how to respond to. Why did people look sad while staring at him? It was a brand new thing to Peter, watching as people gave him sorrowful looks or regretful stares.

The one-eyed pigeon squawked at Peter then, demanding food. Peter huffed at one-eye, "Shhh," The teenager shushed the bird as he threw a piece of his food over to it, "I'm _thinking."_

After a good half hour in the bakery of being manhandled and crowded around, Peter saw a few of paparazzi begin to gather around and that's when the teenager had made his escape to the top of the building. Peter knew that the crowd was still down there, he could hear them murmuring amongst themselves.

And because Peter was a _big tease_ he angled body so that no one could see him, except for his dangling leg, which he had thrown over the edge a few minutes ago, only to hear a few shouts from below and then the clicking of cameras. The teenager had snorted to himself at that.

The teenager took another bit of his baked good, glaring up at the slowly darkening sky as he thought about what he was going to do with the rest of his day. He didn't want to go back to the Tower, not yet at least.

Spidey still hadn't gotten to have a real patrol like he had been craving, no real action had occurred all day, it had been uneventful and boring. And though the teenager wasn't angry anymore, just more on the confused and hurt side of things, he still wanted to do something to get his mind off of his problems.

The pigeon cooed at Peter again, having already pecked away its snack and now begging for more of Spidey's. "You are a big old _hog_." The teenager told the bird, sniffing an annoyed huff as he propped himself up on his elbows so he could look the pigeon in the eye. "You follow me around _all day_ and act like you have a right to _my_ food."

The bird cooed again, this time louder, more demanding, it's one eye glaring at Peter with intensity. Spidey sighed as he let his head fall back, "Fine." He huffed as he tossed the last of his baked good to the large pigeon. "But that's _all_ I have."

Peter puckered his lips in thought, swinging his one leg a bit more as he looked up to the blue sky, watching as a few stray clouds blew by. Well, he didn't want to go back home quite yet, his patrol had been a bust, and he clearly couldn't go out in public, so what did that leave him with?

The teen hummed, "Do you think I should go to Matt's maybe?" He asked the pigeon, it did not reply. "I could hang out with him, or- _oh!_ " Spidey turned to the bird excitedly as an idea struck him, "Maybe I can go patrolling with him instead, like a team-up…" Peter scratched at his chin in thought, "Wonder if he's even home...?"

The one-eyed pigeon turned to the teen then, cocking its head to the side as it started to coo at him in want. Peter shrugged at it, "Sorry my man, but that was the last of it." He told the bird honestly.

The pigeon's beady eye locked onto Peter's face as it gave an irritated squawk. " _Hey!"_ Peter gasped offended, "I _told you,_ dude, you ate it all." The bird looked unimpressed as it walked towards Spidey. "There's no more," Peter told it again, giving the bird a headshake as it approached.

And then suddenly the pigeon sprang forward, it's wings spreading open as it gave a loud squawking sound mixed with a rumbling coo. Peter's spider-sense warned him too late, and there was nothing he could do as the large pigeon began to attack his head.

"You _traitor!"_ Peter yelped as the bird began to peck at him, it's clawed feet pulling on his too long hair, and its chest vibrating with its loud and angry noises as it attacked the teenager.

Peter tried to hit at it, yelling for the bird to leave him alone and go away. It was only a few moments into his struggling that the teenager's spider-sense gave another ring, and then Peter was falling off the building, a choked yell escaping him as he and the evil pigeon fell to the ground.

It was only a few seconds later that the one-eyed bird flew away, leaving Peter alone on the sidewalk…Peter lifted himself up to his knees only for his eyes to go wide as he looked up and into the crowd of people he had just literally dropped in the middle of.

Peter restrained himself from rolling his eyes at his own luck as he glanced up into multiple cameras all pointed at his face. _He was never going to live this down._ "Uh," He started, realizing that his mask was still on the roof of the building as he began to speak, the spandex not rubbing against his lips as he spoke.

 _Oh great_ , this was just great.

"Lovely day we're havin, isn't it?"

* * *

Spidey made it to Matt's livingroom window to find it already open. The teenager crawled in, hoping that he hadn't missed Matt and that the redhead was in fact home. Because otherwise Peter would have to go find something else to do, and this was already kind of his last resort so-

"I hope you made sure no one saw you come here." A voice said from the kitchen. Peter turned to find Matt leaned up against his counter, a mug in his hand and his red tinted glasses slipping down his nose slightly so that he could glare at Peter with milky blue eyes.

The teenager shut the window behind him before slipping out of his mask and tossing it to the coffee table, "Don't you worry my buddy'ol pal, I have _major ninja skills_." He told Matt in a chipper voice as he came over and sat at the kitchen table.

The older man hummed, taking a slow sip of his drink before saying (not bothering to look over at Peter as he did so) "Why do I doubt that?"

Peter gave a gasp of mock-outrage, " _You doubt my ninja skills?!"_ Peter could see a twitch at the corner of Matt's mouth indicating that he was enjoying the playful banter as well. "I will have you know that people have referred to me as a _teenage-mutant-ninja-spider_ many times."

One of Matt's eyebrow quirked up at that, though nothing else on his face changed as he spoke, "And who has refused to you as a _'teenage-mutant-ninja-spider'_ , may I ask?"

Peter pointed a finger up in the air, taking in a breath before blowing an indecisive raspberry, "Okay…So maybe it was just me in my head." The teenager confessed, dropping his hand and giving Matt a sheepish smile that the man could not see, "But I promise that no one was following me."

Matt didn't say anything, just walked away and plopped himself down in a chair over in the living-room, crossing his legs over each other and taking another sip of his drink. Peter bounced his way over to the couch, folding himself into the corner of it and placing his hands in his lap as he looked over at Matt, playing with his thumbs.

"So, did you come here for a specific reason?" Matt asked, his tone light, "Do you need help with something?"

Peter shrugged, knowing that Matt would hear the shift of his spandex against the leather of the couch. "Eh, I came to see if maybe Daredevil and Spiderman could have a team up?" He asked, his voice sounding a bit hopeful even to his own ears, "But I mean, we can just hang out too, whatever is fine with me."

Matt let the silence stretch for a moment, maybe he was listening to something that Peter couldn't hear. "I've been planning to bust a human trafficking ring for a while now." He finally went on. "I'm going to take them down tonight."

Peter shifted on the couch, "Uh, and can I come? I mean, _if-if_ you need help." He stumbled over his words a bit, wiggling in his seat as he watched the man sat across from him. Peter didn't know Matt all that well. Sure, he had known Daredevil for years now, almost from the beginning of Spiderman. But _Daredevil_ and _Matt Murdock_ were very different people, and Peter was still in the process of getting to know him, he didn't want to push boundaries.

The redhead shrugged as he took another sip, "I suppose Daredevil could always use a sidekick." He deadpanned, his tone not showing a hint of humor.

Peter scoffed, placing a hand over his heart as he gapped at the other man, "That my kind sir was cold." He whisper-shouted, acting offended even though his large smile clearly gave him away. "What time are we leavin?" Peter asked then, bouncing slightly in his seat.

Matt's lips curved slightly into a smile. "We leave at midnight."

* * *

 **Fun Fact; When I was ten my sister and I were attacked by a random pigeon...It tried to steal my hat and pulled my hair...And my sister started crying as we ran away...And now my family refers to it as the pigeon incident...**

 **Wanted to thank you all for commenting last week. I usually try to reply to everyone, but I didn't have time this past week. So I apologize, but I should be replying again this week! I read what all of you guys said and I appreciate every comment very much.** **(◕‿◕✿) So thank you my peoples!**

 **Alright, until next week, I will see you goofballs later.**

 **~Fernandidilly-yo out!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hey sorry, I haven't posted in awhile guys. I had a flare up, and then a pretty bad seizure so my brain is still trying to recover and I'm not really thinking straight. (I keep forgetting stuff, or not being able to talk without a bunch of lisping, it's really starting to annoy me) ¯\\_(ツ** **)_/¯**

 **I know that last chapter was subpar, (not my best work whatsoever) and I debated even posting it, but I am hoping that this chapter is better. :)**

 **Trigger Warning- So, there is talk of human trafficking (nothing too graphic) and because of this the bad guys in this chapter are _gross._ And they say some yucky stuff to Peter. You all know I don't swear (even if it might make the bad guys more realistic) so it's nothing horrible. Just be careful if this is a trigger for you. :)**

* * *

 **Chapter 5:**

Matt bit the inside of his lip as he listened to the teenager in front of him. Peter shifted on the couch, bringing his legs up to his chest and tapping a beat on his knee as he bobbed his head a little to himself. The kid was always moving, a hyper mess of gangly limbs, it helped Matt get a visual on him, he always knew where Peter was, and what he was doing.

Something was off, Matt could tell. The kid's voice had a forced tone to it, the happy pitch not sounding as genuine to Matt's ears as it should. "Do the Avengers know you're here?" Matt found himself asking, trying to make his tone light, not prying.

Peter shifted a slight shrug of the shoulders, spandex catching on leather flittering into Matt's ears. "Eh. No. I kinda, _kinda_ , just _left?"_ He said a bit sheepishly, his fingers twiddling in his lap.

"Why is that?" Matt asked back, placing his mug on the coffee table so he could lace his fingers together in front of him. Letting his glasses slip down slightly so he could _'look'_ at Peter over the top of them. That usually had the desired effect on people, Foggy had told Matt it was _'creepy as all get out'_ when Matt looked at people that way, setting them on edge, making them feel uncomfortable. The thought made Matt want to laugh.

"Uh, just needed to get out." There was a slight change in the teenager's breathing at that, not a total lie, but not the full truth. "S'was getting stuffy in the Tower."

Matt had known Spiderman since the beginning of the kid's career, he remembered the first time he ran into the Spider, there had been rumors of a new vigilant, and Matt couldn't say he had really cared, but that had changed when he finally ran into the masked hero, Daredevil had been shocked by the hummingbird heartbeat that greeted his ears, it was _young_ too young…and far too fast to be a normal humans.

His view on the new vigilant had changed after that, Matt couldn't say he had been all that happy to know some _high schooler_ was out there fighting the scum of New York by himself in nothing but a spandex suit. But there had been nothing he could do about it, nothing but possibly lend a hand when Matt could.

So yes, Daredevil and Spiderman have known each other for a couple years now, they have had dozens of team-ups, and a few late-night meals on rooftops from time to time after said team-ups. But that was as normal as their interactions had ever gotten, no personal information had been exchanged, no addresses nor ages, and certainly no identities.

But Matt had only known him as _Peter_ for just over a month now. The kid acted differently while in and out of the mask. Of course, there were some similarities, Spiderman and Peter Parker were the _same_ person after all. But Peter was less snarky out of the mask, a little less confident in himself, and a lot more like a normal adolescent. And Matt was still figuring out where he stood with the boy.

It had been a shock finding the kid passed out on that dumpster all those weeks ago, Matt hadn't seen Spiderman in _months_ , rumors of the hero going silent and losing his webs never sat well with Daredevil, neither of those things sounded like the teenager he had come to know. And that had left Matt to wonder _what exactly could cause such a change?_ What could make that bubbly and honestly at times _irritating,_ Spiderman go mute?

Daredevil had looked for Spiderman once or twice, when the news had begun speculating what was going on with the web-slinging hero, Matt had decided to do something, and then DD had found himself going outside the border of Hell's Kitchen in search for his young friend; but the city was large, and without the scent of web-fluid or the sound of the all too familiar 'thwip thwip' it made it all the harder for DD to find the wall-crawler.

So yes, it had been surprising when one day (after months of finding nothing) on his way to work Matt had heard the hummingbird heartbeat, but something had been wrong, it wasn't as fast, not healthy. Spiderman was hurt. So, without a second thought Matt had run towards that familiar heartbeat, only to find a bleeding boy in place of a spandex covered vigilant.

It wasn't until Matt had interacted with the teenager the next day that the man realized there was something emotional going on within Spiderman, something deep down that was eating at the kid and leaving him _quite literally speechless._ It made sense to Matt, though, he knew that there must have been something huge to render Spiderman mute and webless. Matt just hadn't known _what_.

Now though, after gathering all the information he needed, and watching as the kid began to come back to himself, Matt could see differences, Peter was back to talking and making horrible jokes that made DD wince with their stupidity, and the teen wasn't standoffish anymore like he expected everyone in the world to turn on him at any given moment. There were still hurdles to get over, though, damage and heartbreak that would take time to heal and move past.

Matt hoped the Avengers were up to the task.

"Oh yes," Matt deadpanned as he got up headed back to the kitchen, "I'm sure the ninety-five-story building was becoming extremely suffocating for you." He made sure his voice was flat, though he did let his lips curve upward ever so slightly.

Peter gave a huffed chuckle from the couch, the sound pushing out of his throat without his consent. "Ninety-three Matt," He said in a _'duh'_ tone, "Don't over exaggerate." The smile was evident in the teenager's voice, the banter light and normal for the two of them.

"Oh yes, pardon my mistake." Matt let his tone stay monotone as he grabbed some popcorn kernels before fishing a pot out of his cupboards, pouring some oil into the bottom before dumping in the seeds.

"Why are you making popcorn?" Peter asked, popping up to his knees on the couch and bouncing slightly where he sat.

Matt hummed, "I need to do some paperwork, but I suppose I can multitask. So, you can pick out a movie." Peter began to say something, his legs rolling to the side from under him as he planted his feet on the ground and got up excitedly. " _If_ ," Matt interrupted before Peter could say anything, "You text the Avengers _first_ , and let them know where you are."

Peter groaned, his arms dangling in front of him as he slumped, "Uhg, Matt," His voice was a slight whine, a petulant edge to it that made Matt want to roll his eyes. "You're worse than Tony, I swear."

"Blasphemies!" Matt griped at the kid, listening as the popcorn began to well, _'pop'_. "I'd rather not have the Avengers on my ass about harboring a runaway teenager, so text or call to tell them you aren't dead in a dumpster."

Peter snickered, " _Awe,_ you remembered," He cooed as he grabbed at Matt's phone sitting on the coffee table, apparently not having his own cell on him. "And here I was thinkin, I was the only one that reminisced back to the good'old days."

Matt shook his head to himself, pressing his lips together to hold in the bark of laughter he could feel building in his chest. "Speaking of, I've yet to see my clothes again."

Matt could imagine the sheepish smile that Peter must be throwing over his shoulder, his hair a puffy mess from his mask, his eyes probably similar to a puppy's. _Sometimes being blind was very useful._

Peter had the phone pressed to one of his ears with his shoulder as he rummaged through Matt's movie collection. Matt wasn't even sure what all was there, Foggy bought most of Matt's movies for him, forcing Matt to watch them and tell Foggy what he thought. If it weren't for the blond Matt wouldn't have even owned a TV, DD felt it was a waste of time.

The phone rang a few times before someone on the other line picked up and Peter turned around, his back facing Matt to provide a semblance of privacy for himself. "Hello?" The voice sounded confused on the other side of the line, Matt didn't recognize it.

"Hey Sam, it's Peter." Peter greeted, his form hunching in on itself as he paced the living room a bit nervously, Matt could hear the stick of his feet on the hardwood, when had he taken off his boots? "Just checking in, I'm with DD."

"Steve's been worried sick, you left your _phone_ and _comm_ here kid." The man, _Sam_ , said then, his voice sounding somewhat scolding, but not enough to mask the slight worry that also lay in his pitch.

Peter heaved a sigh as he plopped on the couch, "I just wanted to be by myself for a bit. Get my head on straight." The teenager ran a hand through his hair a few more times, probably making it look even worse.

"I understand kiddo," The man responded, Matt, busied himself with the popcorn as it began to get louder, making it harder for him to hear the conversation that he had no business listening to in the first place. "But I don't think Steve is going to except an excuse, we asked you to wear a comm for a reason, a very _real_ and very _legitimate_ reason."

The teenager gave a defeated sigh at that, "I know, and I'm not making excuses. I _just_ …Everything today just…I don't know, Sam. I was being irresponsible and Steve can give me one of his trademarked _I-am-utterly-disappointed-with-you_ talks that will make me want to _die inside_ when I get home."

There was a huffed chuckle on the other side of the line. "Are you coming home now then? Because I think Caps making some notes, y'know getting prepared." It was a teasing comment, Matt could tell, but Peter still shifted uncomfortably on the couch.

"No. I um, I'm gonna hang out with Matt for a while before we head out for a nighttime patrol."

"Are you sure?" Sam asked, and Matt thought he might have heard disappointment in the man's voice. "We could order some pizza and hang out on my floor, or yours if you wanted to?"

Peter was quiet for a moment, gnawing on his bottom lip, "Can we—could we _still_ do that tomorrow even if I said no to right _now?_ " It was things like this that made Matt uncomfortable with Peter's age. He sounded so much like a child while talking to this Sam guy. It was always a slap in the face for Matt, remembering how young Spiderman really was. Knowing that with what they do Peter could die at any given moment. It was an unsettling feeling that left Matt's core cold.

But then Matt would force himself to recall the many times of the web-slinger single-handedly saving the city, he would remind himself of how Spiderman had saved his butt plenty, more times than Matt could remember honestly. And then Matt would shove those feelings down about the boy's age because that didn't matter at this point, Spiderman was a respected hero, and Matt would treat him as such.

"Never have to ask to hang out with me kid." Sam responded on the line, "The answer is always yes, got it?"

"Okay. Got it. I uh, I'll see you later Sam."

"Don't stay out all night again."

"I make no promises." And with that Peter clicked off the phone, and set it back down on the coffee table.

Peter probably knew that Matt heard their whole conversation, it wasn't something that Matt could really control, not when Peter had been talking only a few dozen feet away from where DD had been cooking. So instead of bringing up the fact, Matt walked over plopping a large bowl of popcorn down on the teen's lap and then sat across from him.

"What'er we watching?" Matt asked as he pulled up his briefcase flicking open the tabs, and then placing the large case file on his lap for later inspection.

Peter hummed, "Star Trek reruns?" He asked hopeful, a piece of popcorn being twiddled in-between his deft fingers. "I didn't know you were a Trekkie Matt. _You big nerd."_

Matt glared at the teenager over the rims of his glasses again, earning himself a chuckle from the boy across the room. "And like you aren't?" Matt replied.

Peter blew out a breath, "I said no such thing." He whispered in mock-outrage before putting the disk in and placing himself back into the corner of the couch, crunching on some popcorn as he waited.

"Space…The final frontier." Peter whispered along as the show began, Matt needed to introduce the teenager to Foggy, DD thought the two would get along fairly well…though that could turn out very badly for Matt if the two turned against him…

* * *

The air was chilled, the smell of rain hanging in the air like a thick sheet. Matt wondered how this weather must have felt when you were in nothing but _spandex,_ like the crazy teenager to his left currently was. (Stark needs to make the kid a better-equipped suit for these types of conditions)

The pair sneaked their way towards the large warehouse, _and why was it always abandoned warehouses?_ It was far too cliché for DD's taste. But at least the stupidity of the scum running around the city helped Daredevil to track them down faster. People that didn't think outside of the box were much easier to catch than the evil people with enough brains cells to think of finding a more secure or secret location.

They were equally satisfying to punch, though. Never say that Daredevil is biased. He doesn't care how smart or dumb you are, he'll kick your butt either way.

The two heroes had formed a plan before they left for patrol tonight. Peter sitting on Matt's counter drinking coffee (that DD wasn't sure the already hyperactive teen should even have access too) while Matt informed Peter of where they were going and who they would be dealing with.

It had been decided that Daredevil would infiltrate the warehouse from the ground while Spiderman would swoop in from the rafters. Hopefully taking down all the men swiftly and before any casualties could accrue.

The air faintly smelt of cigarettes and Tabaco, making DD's nose scrunch up in distaste. They were getting close now, just on the outside of the chain linked gates of the warehouse. Daredevil placed a hand and Spiderman's chest to stop the teen, the two crouching down so that Matt could listen.

DD could feel the teenager's pulse through his leather gloves and the boy's spandex suit, the feel matching the sound in the redhead's ears. Fast and healthy, a slight flutter every few beats or so, _excited nervousness_. Matt took his fingers away, the beating to distracting right now when he had a task at hand.

There was the crunch of gravel underneath booted feet, the whips of breathing noses, and the drum of heartbeats hidden underneath bullet proof vests. DD stretched his senses out slightly, counting how many pulses he heard, how many people were on the outside guarding the building.

Five.

There were four men and a woman walking outside of the building, all seeming to be armed. Not a surprise. Matt and Peter had prepared for this as well.

"So, are we going to go in guns'a blazin? Or are we gonna be all ninja-like about it?" Peter had asked while on top of Matt's kitchen counter. The man might have said something about _teenagers disregarding common household manners_. But Foggy always plopped himself on Matt's counters as well, so at this point, the redhead couldn't even find it in himself to care.

"We need to be stealthy. Take everyone down before anything can happen to the victims." Matt had replied, bringing his own mug of coffee up to his lips. Matt's was black with a little bit of cream, while Peter's was heaping full of milk, cream, _and_ sugar. Matt thought that if Peter didn't have accelerated healing he would surely end up with diabetes by the time he was thirty. (When he had informed Peter of this fact, the teenager had choked on his coffee, spluttering and laughing, before gasping out an _'oh my god Matt you sound just like my aunt'_ )

"I'll take the two on the south side while you take the other three," Matt whispered just loud enough for the teenager behind him to hear before the man without fear sprinted forward flipping himself over the chain-link fence in one smooth move and running for the closest heartbeat.

It only took thirty seconds or so to take the guards down. Daredevil played no games, especially when it came to the likes of these men. Human trafficking. It made Matt feel _sick._ Daredevil hit one man in the head with his billy-club before the guy even saw him coming, leaving the other guard only enough time to snap his head in Matt's direction before DD kicked him square in the jaw. Leaving both men unconscious on the cold ground.

There were murmurs on the other side of the building, the smell of web-fluid and then muffled shouts of people being bound and gagged _with_ said web-fluid. Awe, Matt had missed working with Spidey. Officiant and reliable.

Daredevil ran forward again, listening as Peter climbed up and onto the roof of the warehouse. Both of the vigilantes getting into position. Matt closed his eyes beneath his cowl, taking a deep breath as he listened to what lay inside of the building.

There was a group of people, _fourteen to be exact_ , all sat shivering and whimpering in the middle of the warehouse huddled together. A few of the heartbeats were light and wispy, strong but fast, _children._ Those were the hearts of _children._

Matt gave a silent snarl at that, his face curling as his fists did so. His body aching with the need to punch something. _Someone_ to be more precise. And a couple of those ' _someones'_ were waiting for DD's fury, right on the other side of these thin walls.

There were three guards standing around the victims, their guns held tightly, their stances firm where they stood. A few more men were littered around the warehouse, it seemed that these people had been more dependent on their staff outside to keep anyone out, which clearly had been a mistake on their part.

There was a shifting rustling coming from the back, there was a small office placed back there that DD hadn't noticed before. A squat man came out then, the shifting of a worn suit flittered into Matt's ears, the smell of cheap cologne clogging his nostrils.

"Richie will be here in fifteen minutes with the trucks. So, make sure everyone is in their positions. I want things to go as smoothly as possible. _Got it?"_ The short man demanded, his voice nasally and tight.

"Yes, sir." Another man responded, just another lackey. Another face for Daredevil to smash his knuckles into.

Matt gave a huff through his nose. There were nine scumbags in the warehouse including _Mr. Cheap Cologne._ Spidey and DD should have no trouble taking them down, none seemed to be super in any way. So, other than the guns there shouldn't be any surprises.

Daredevil crouched down readying himself to launch forward at any moment, waiting for Spiderman to make his move. Matt could hear the teenager, shifting up in the rafters, getting ready to-

Spidey shot out two webs at the same time, the thick sticky strands landing on two of the guards standing by the innocents. The teenage spider pulled hard, sending one man into a nearby wall and the other into his colleague. Swiftly taking out the three men guarding the people, just like Matt had instructed Peter to do. Good.

Daredevil wasted no time bursting in through the large doors, as soon as he heard the _'thwip thwip'_ come from Spiderman's wrists he was racing forward. DD swung his batons into one man's gut before kicking another in the shoulder, enjoying the way both men yelped and groaned in pain.

Gunshots fired out, not at Matt, though, the scum on the other side of the building were too preoccupied with the Spider up in the rafters. Their guns pointed upwards and shooting off blindly. Peter was hidden in the shadows, scurrying forward before dropping down in a smooth cat-like landing right in front of the men.

"Hi'ya!" Spiderman waved before giving a swift kick, catching two gunmen in the sides before sending the two crashing to the ground with a loud _'thump'_. "One horrid party you've got here," Peter babbled. This was dirtier crime than the kid was used to dealing with, Matt knew. And it showed in the tone of the teenager's voice. "DD and I just thought we'd come on over and crash it before anything got too crazy."

Daredevil flinched as one man pulled out a knife, the guard swinging it forward and catching Matt slightly on the shoulder before the hero could dodge out of the way. DD grunted, as grabbed the man by the wrist and twisted the wrong way. Hearing the clatter of the knife as well as the snap of a bone.

Matt rarely ever felt any remorse for what he did. He was a man of God, and these men were horrifying sinners that deserved to pay for what they have done. And at times like these DD couldn't say he didn't feel a sort of pleasure at beating these men senseless.

Spidey was webbing all the guns to himself before throwing them up to the rafters and letting them dangle there. (He was making sure none of the innocent got hurt while DD and he fought off the scumbags) It was a good thing for him to do. Daredevil always admired the way the younger hero looked out for others wellbeing in any way possible.

But Spidey was too preoccupied with stealing the guns away. And these men played _dirty_. DD gave a slight start as he sensed a man sneaking up behind Spiderman. Daredevil grabbed the guard he had been fighting by the head, bringing down the woman's face and smashing it against his knee before spinning around and sprinting for his friend.

 _"Webs!"_ Matt shouted, getting his billy-club ready, "Duck!" Peter rolled out of the way as the man behind him fired, DD knew that the teenager had a warning system within his brain, what did he call it? A _Web-Alert, Spider-Sense,_ _Arachnid-Alarm,_ or something? Ehe, it didn't matter what the kid called it, Matt wasn't going to take a chance relying on something he didn't understand when _he_ could do something about it, not when it came to Peter's life.

The bullets whizzed past Daredevil and the hero jumped forward, curving his body before slamming himself into the gunmen, tackling him to the floor and punching the man in the throat. _That's what he got._

Spiderman jumped up and flipped himself towards the men that were trying to escape with _Mr. Cheap Cologne._ "Hey, you can't leave yet! Not without some _party favors!"_ Peter yelled as he slammed his fist into one of the guard's sides. The man bellowed, trying to take a shot at the teenager.

" _Why ain't it the Avenger's bed warmer himself."_ One of the men gripped at Spiderman, Matt heard the slight shift in Peter's heartbeat at the man's words, causing the teenager to be too slow in his movements, the end of a gun slamming into his gut and knocking the wind out of Spidey. With a loud _'whoosh'_ that Daredevil could clearly hear.

"Do the Avengers know you're out here with the Devil?" Another gunman hissed, kicking at Spiderman and catching the teen in the knee, making Peter lose his balance slightly, though Matt thought that might have to do more with what the men were saying and less about their blows. DD grumbled to himself. These men were manipulating Peter, distracting him so they could get the upper hand.

"Or does the Devil get some action on the side too?" Matt felt heat surge in his chest, an anger building within him as he listened to Peter's heart rate rise. DD slammed his boot into another one of the guards he was fighting, his ears trained on the hissed words coming from the man Peter was fighting on the other side of the warehouse.

"Are the Avengers passing you around? Letting you do their _dirty_ work for them?" Another man joined in, the four or so that Spidey was fighting all beginning to overpower the teen with their words.

Daredevil felt the heat spreading all over him, the anger beginning to be too much. He needed to get over there _now._ DD sprinted forward, grabbing to gunmen and slamming their heads together before he spun around and ran towards Peter.

"Bet you'd be real _flexible_ , what was it again, oh yes, _Peter."_ Spidey's heart rate shot up, his breathing hitching as his arms gave a spasm at the use of his real name. Matt felt everything inside of him go red. "What'do'ya say Sweetie-Petey, don't worry we'll be g-" The man wasn't allowed to finish his sentence as Daredevil came barreling from the other side of the warehouse, slamming his baton into the scums head before abruptly kicking the man in the nose. Twisting around and then slamming himself into the others.

Spidey scrambled to his feet from where the men had knocked him down and were trying to pin him, no doubt planning to shoot him the moment the teenager stopped his struggles. Peter knocked out the last man that Matt hadn't gotten the chance to attack yet. DD couldn't say he wasn't a bit disappointed that he hadn't gotten to break a few more bones in the process.

Matt was about to say something to Peter, he wasn't really sure _what_ exactly. Matt had never been good at consoling, and he hadn't been prepared for something like this. But before DD could even open his mouth there were a few muffled yelps and shouts coming from behind him, Daredevil spun around, the stench of cheap cologne filling his nostrils as he turned to the innocents all huddled together in the middle of the warehouse.

"Let me walk away, or this little _china doll_ gets it." Mr. Cheap Cologne said in his high-pitched voice. He had slipped away while Spiderman and Daredevil were distracted with the scumbags over here, neither of them noticing the man going towards the women and children until it was too late.

DD clenched his teeth, now the man was holding a child in his arms, her feet dangling off of the floor as she sobbed, a gun pressed to her head. Before Matt could move Spidey was, his gloved palms facing outward as he took one step forward.

DD could still hear the way his heart raced, could smell the fear on him, but when Peter spoke his voice barely wavered. "Please let her go," He began, taking another step forward, "Set the little girl down, so no more people get hurt."

Matt wasn't sure what Peter was doing, he must know you can't reason with these people, they didn't _care_ about human life, they didn't _care_ about the wellbeing of children, they only cared about _themselves._

" _Shut up!"_ The man spat, his grip on the gun shaking ever so slightly. This man wasn't used to confronting violence like this, DD could tell. He was the face of the trades, he paid the men and helped set up arrangements, he didn't do the main dirty work.

 _"Don't you dare come any closer!"_ Mr. Cheap Cologne shouted Matt could hear the way some of his spit flew out of his mouth and landed on the dusty floor. More of the people on the ground began to whimper, the scent of salty tears making DD's fists clench.

"Make a move and _I swear to god_ I will blow her _pretty little brains out!"_ The man screamed, making most of the people flinch that sat huddled under his short form. All the gunmen were down, unconscious or left moaning on the floor, it was just the two heroes, the victims, and the last standing scumbag that _just wouldn't give up._

 _"Okay-okay,"_ Spidey said hurriedly. Taking a half step back as he cocked his head to the side slightly. Matt realized that Peter had walked himself forward so that he was facing the man head on, now only twelve feet or so away from Mr. Cheap Cologne. What was Spidey planning to do?

The room was left silent for a moment, the man panting as he thought out what he needed to do next, the only sound his heavy breathing. "I'm going-" Evidently Spidey had been waiting for the man to become distracted with speaking because the moment Mr. Cheap Cologne opened his mouth Spiderman made his move.

Peter _'thwiped'_ out a web, pulling the gun from the man's grip, a shot rang out, but the bullet zooming through the ceiling as Spiderman dislodged it from the man's grubby fingers. Splintered wood rained down on the victims and they screamed in terror, the sound ringing in DD's ears.

Spidey shot out two more webs almost too quick for Matt to detect, one smacking across Mr. Cheap Cologne's face making him scream outraged into the sticky substance. The other web-line catching on the little girl the man had been threatning.

Peter pulled her to himself, one of his hands hugging the little girl to his chest, while the other rubbed at her head in a soothing motion. The teenager plopped down a moment later, setting the girl in his lap as he let her cry into his spandex, then with a deep breath to ground himself, Peter turned to Matt and spoke only softly enough for DD to hear.

"Go get'em Double D."

Daredevil didn't need to be told twice.

* * *

Matt had insisted he take Peter back to the Tower, _no matter how many times Peter had told him he could go back by himself._ Peter wasn't sure if that was because DD didn't trust him to go back to the Tower on his own, or if it was because the man could no doubt hear the way Peter's heart was still beating franticly.

So yeah, Spiderman had been escorted home by none other than _Daredevil_. _(Oh lucky day!_ ) When they had finally gotten to the large skyscraper Peter had shifted uncomfortably. He didn't want to talk about what happened tonight. And Matt wasn't pushing him to either, but Peter knew that must be the reason DD had come all the way out here.

"So, uh, are you headed back to Hell's Kitchen now?" Spidey had asked, kicking a pebble off the side of the rooftop as his fidgeted.

"Actually, I need to talk to Stark." Double D had said. And Peter bit his lip so hard he thought it might bleed, before conceding.

 _"Okay, sure, yup. I get'ch'ya."_ The teenager had rocked on his heels. Sucking in a full breath through his nose. "Do'ya…do'ya want me to give you a lift?" He had asked. But Daredevil had opted to use the elevator inside of the Tower, while Peter had said he would rather just climb to his floor.

He knew that Matt could have called him out on avoiding the rest of the Avengers because clearly, that was what Peter was _doing._ But his heart was still racing, his ears buzzing, his thoughts swirling, and the front of his suit covered in snot and tears from a traumatized little girl.

And Peter just couldn't will himself to deal with other people right now.

And maybe Matt had known that. Maybe that is why he had let Peter go, really whatever the reason Peter was just thankful.

So now here Peter was, his hair still damp from his quick shower and his pajamas clinging to his moist skin. He was laying on the floor behind his couch and next to his window, because, _why not?_ The carpet was soft underneath his head and Peter wiggled his toes into it as he heaved a sigh from deep in his chest.

He knew that Matt had come to _'talk'_ to Tony so that the redheaded lawyer could inform the rest of the Avengers of what happened tonight. Because that's what adults _did._ They talked and discussed how to best help their teenagers with their angsty problems.

Uhg…And Peter was the angsty teenager within this equation…yucky.

Maybe it was better that they got the full story from Matt, though, that way when they asked Peter what happened he wouldn't have to go into detail. _Because honest to god Peter just wanted to forget the events of tonight._ He wanted to stop thinking about it.

Well, his mind clearly hadn't gotten the memo, because it just kept replaying what happened over and over again. Then came the panicked thoughts that stuff like that would happen constantly now. That Peter raveling himself had completely ruined everything.

But then Peter would try to swoop in with some logic and talk his brain out of that panic. Even if patrolling and being Spidey sucked for a while it would blow over. Plus, it didn't really matter how Peter was treated while out fighting as Spiderman, he was Spiderman so he could make a _difference_ , so he could _save_ lives. That's all that mattered.

Like those people tonight. He and Matt had saved _fourteen_ people. _Five_ of which were children. That's what mattered, not what those men had said to Peter. They had only said those things to get to him. None of it was true. So why was it eating at Peter from the inside out?

"JARVIS?" Peter blinked up at the ceiling. He had left his apartment dark. The lights from the outside city twinkling in through his large windows like stars.

"Yes, Peter?" The AI responded.

"Is Daredevil still here?" The teenager couldn't help but ask. It was weird knowing that a bunch of people were downstairs all talking about you. Add on that those people were, in fact, all super powered and ultra-famous, and it made it about one _hundred times weirder._

"Mr. Murdock left the Tower approximately seven minutes ago, with Mr. Hogan," JARVIS replied smoothly.

Peter felt his eyebrows scrunch. "He went with Happy?" He asked confused, "Like, _Happy_ is driving _Matt_ home?"

"Mr. Roger's insisted on it, and with much reluctance, Mr. Murdock finally agreed to have Mr. Hogan escort him back to Hell's Kitchen. _Much to Sir's delight."_

Peter couldn't help it, he snorted a laugh, placing a hand on his mouth as he giggled. He could just imagine it, Matt sitting in the back of a car, decked out in full Daredevil gear, with Happy sitting silently in the front driving. The two men never saying a word, and both not wanting to be there. Oh wow, this is the type of thing Peter _lives_ for.

The teenager lapsed back into silence after that. His head rolling to the side as he blinked slowly at his window, gazing over the sea of lights that shimmered beyond the thick glass.

"Room for one more?" Peter startled at the voice, his eyes going wide as he glanced up to his ceiling. A moment later just being able to make out the whites of two eyes, and nothing else.

"Course," The teenager said around a yawn. Blinking tired tears out of his eyes as he watched Natasha extract herself from the ceiling vent and plop to her feet without a sound, landing a few inches from Peter.

Nat wiggled so that she was lying next to Peter, her legs outstretched like his own and her arms pillowing the back of her head. The two spiders both looked up at the blank ceiling, neither saying anything for a moment.

"Rough day," Natasha spoke, it wasn't a question, but a statement.

"Rough day." Peter agreed, rubbing some of the sleep out of his eyes as he turned his head to look over at the woman, she didn't look back.

"We all have them." Nat's voice was soft, her lips barely moving with the words. "It's learning how to cope with them, that's the hard part."

Peter bit his lip, nodding his agreement as he looked back to the ceiling. "And how do _you_ cope?" He asked, his voice just as soft as Nat's a near whisper in the night.

"I'm still figuring that out," Natasha spoke truthfully. "But it's getting easier."

* * *

 **Alright, kiddos, so, my health has taken a bit of a turn, so I will not being updating weekly anymore. (I know that sucks, and I feel like all you awesome people deserve weekly chapters, but I can't keep up with that for right now) When my health improves we will go back to once weekly updates. But for now, I'm just going to shoot for every other week. (though nothing is set in stone at this point)** **¯\\_(ツ** **)_/¯**

 **Anywho...thank you all for being patient with me, for reading and commenting, and for checking on me, you are all super amazing and too good to me, I love you peoples!** **(◕‿◕✿)**

 **~Fernandidilly-yo out!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Hey, kiddos! I am so sorry that I just disappeared for a while there. You guys shouldn't have to wait a month for just six thousand words, I apologize for my suckiness. (Please don't kill me)**

* * *

 ** _Chapter 6:_**

Peter did not wake to sunlight flashing over his closed eyelids or with a tired yawn and a cat-like stretch, he did not wake slowly and peacefully like most people wished they would get the pleasure to in the morning.

No, he woke with a jolt, snapping to wakefulness all at once.

Someone was beginning to lay on top of Peter, quiet _roughly_ and _rudely_ he might add. " _Ahhhggg,"_ The teenager moaned at them, trying to turn over in his sleepy state and willing the _nincompoop_ on top of him to get the message, and _Leave!_ but the person's weight was pinning him down to the carpet so the teenager gave up a moment later.

"Ah," The person sighed in contentment, letting themselves rest fully on the teenager now, one of their elbows digging into Peter's abdomen uncomfortably. "This lump on the floor is very comfortable." They hummed.

It was Clint.

Of course it was Clint.

It was _always_ Clint.

Peter shuffled his face down into his fuzzy blanket a bit more, hiding himself from the light and the man-child that was laying on top of him. He didn't remember how he had gotten The Blanket, because it was indeed _'The'_ Blanket, but come to think of it Peter didn't remember falling asleep either.

The teenager finally forced his brown eyes open, squinting a tired glare at Clint as he realized the man's face was only a few inches from his own. "Mornin' Sunshine!" Clint chirped, giving a wink at Peter as he lazily kicked his feet in the air, laying stomach down on top of the teen.

Peter raised an eyebrow at the man, "Why have you invaded my apartment and my personal space?" The teen rasped, his throat feeling dry from sleep. Peter had actually slept pretty good last night, which was a shock, because not only was the teen prone to nightmares, but he apparently had slept on his _livingroom floor_ , not to mention his very long and very _not_ _good_ day yesterday.

"Ah, don't be a grouchy," Clint poked Peter's nose as he said the word 'grouchy' making the teen wrinkle his face in distaste. "We decide to have breakfast on your floor."

At the word ' _we'_ Peter lifted his head up so he could look past Clint, finding Steve sitting on his blue couch sipping on some coffee in what appeared to be an _Iron Man_ mug, while Thor sat on the red couch, looking puzzled as he scanned one of Peter's science textbooks.

"Good morning, Peter." Cap greeted with a smile giving a little wiggle of his fingers in a wave.

Peter smiled, some of his sleep wearing off, "Morning, Cap." He replied chipper, "If I'd known I was havin company this mornin' I would have _put on my best purls."_ The teenager remarked, giving Clint a mock mournful pout.

"No amount of jewelry is ever going to make this face pretty," Clint stated, poking at Peter's cheek this time.

The teenager glared before promptly flinging the Archer off of himself, Clint gave a yelp as he fell to the floor but he made no move to get up, just stuck his face into the carpet as Peter pulled himself to his feet.

The teenager huffed a laugh, making sure to step on Clint's back as he walked away, Clint halfheartedly swatted at Peter, and Steve continued to look more and more amused at the two.

"How'd you sleep?" Steve asked as Peter settled himself next to Thor. His blue eyes looking soft and happy in the low-key atmosphere of the morning.

Peter gave a one-sided shrugged, making The Blanket shift on his shoulder. "Pretty good actually." He stated, feeling the corners of his mouth lift with the statement.

Thor suddenly shut the textbook with a loud ' _snap'_ , making Peter flinch with the noise. The thunder god set the book down on the coffee table a moment later before looking to Peter promptly. "No terrors of the night?" He asked, his long blond hair was in a ponytail today, Peter thought that the pink hairband might have had _Hello Kitty_ on it.

The teenager held in his laughter at the thought, though. He liked seeing Thor like this, he almost looked normal, barefoot, in blue jeans, and red T-shirt; although Thor was very big in all sense of the word, he was hard to miss and very easy to distinguish, and because of that fact he could never blend in with the rest of the world like the other Avengers could. (Well, granted that no one recognized them, they were all famous superheroes after all)

But that just made Thor all the more _Thor_ , in Peter's book. And well, Peter liked Thor for everything he was. Peter liked that Thor was loud and strong. Peter liked that Thor didn't always understand their references and way of life but that he made an effort to learn. And Peter liked that Thor was wise and gentle when he needed be.

Peter trusted Thor fully, and he was always glad for the man's presence, he was like a solid pillar for the teenager to lean on when he needed. Peter wouldn't change anything about the man, he was a great friend to have, and for that the teenager was thankful.

"No terrors of the night." Peter agreed a moment later, nodding to himself and making his too long hair shift into his face. The teen wrinkled his nose at his bangs, blowing at the hair to get it out of his eyes, but the brown strands just flopped right back. (Man, Peter really needed a haircut…)

Thor hummed at him before shifting, "Ah, I shall help." He mumbled to himself before pulling another hair-tie off of his wrist. And yes, Peter got a clear view of the bands this time, they were in fact _Hello Kitty._

Thor turned towards Peter fully, the couch giving a slight noise with the movement. Peter could feel the laughter building in his chest as Thor grabbed at his hair, it needed washing after being in the mask all day yesterday, but Thor either didn't mind or didn't notice.

"Ah, yes," Thor said after he was finished grabbing all of the long enough strands of Peter's hair before banding them together on the top of the teenager's head. "A vast improvement I would say." Thor's smile was large, his tone sounding the same as it always did, but Peter could tell the blond was teasing.

A giggle passed the teenager's lips as he felt the pony-tail on the top of his head, it was all puffy and sticking straight up, his hair barely long enough to even get into the band. He could only imagine that it must look like a mini palm tree on of brown hair.

"You're a huge dork." Clint said from his place on the ground, before he gave a thumbs up, "I totally dig it." He smiled. "You should be a hairdresser, Thor."

Thor hummed, looking thoughtful as he rubbed at his chin, (He was growing a beard now, and it somehow made the guy look _even more masculine_ , Peter was going to end up with a complex soon with all of these _manly men_ hanging around him) "Aye. Perhaps it is my true calling." Thor agreed.

Peter couldn't help it, he full on cackled this time, scrubbing at his face as he tried to calm his laughter down a bit. Clint was sitting closer on the floor now, his gray eyes staring at Peter when the teen finally stopped giggling.

"What?" Peter asked, "Something on my face?" He joked.

"Just the normal ugly features." Clint grinned back, "But y'know you can't help that any more than Tony can, so..."

Steve and Peter both snorted a laugh at that. Cap shook his head to himself before taking a sip of his coffee and picked up a magazine, Peter kicked at the Archer sitting at his feet in a bit of retaliation, before Clint's face shifted into a more serious expression.

Peter cocked his head to the side in question, before Clint started to sign at him. Peter didn't need to learn sign language anymore, he had his voice back so he no longer had to use the little notepads that lay around the Tower either, and sure he and Clint didn't do they're daily sign language lessons anymore. But that didn't mean that Peter didn't _want_ to still learn. It was Clint's language, so Peter wanted to know it, Clint was his friend and this was something that the man was willing to share with Peter, so Peter wouldn't take that for granted. ( _Plus_ , ASL was a pretty neat language, so Peter didn't _mind_ learning it either. Being able to talk with his body helped get Peter's jittery energy out as well, which was always a bonus)

"Are you okay?" Clint signed, he was able to move his fingers faster now that Peter could keep up, and so if the two weren't near _Natasha_ they could have somewhat full conversations without the others eavesdropping (Though it was an unspoken rule, that if you _could_ keep up with the conversation, then you have earned the right to know what was being said) _(Competitiveness was a very good way of learning within the Avenger household)_

"Yeah," Peter made his fist into an _'A'_ before moving his wrist back and forth. "Why would I _not_ be?" He asked. ASL was a little tricky for Peter, the sentences were almost said backwards, and other words like 'and, the, was', etc, weren't used very often, it still confused Peter a little bit. But Clint said that if he just tried to talk like _Yoda_ for a while, he would end up getting it down. (Oddly enough, that advice had helped Peter's brain wrap around the concept)

" _Yesterday_ ," Clint moved his thumb up his cheekbone to make the signal word.

Oh… Peter sighed, subconsciously leaning into Thor's side a bit more as he thought about the events of his day yesterday. Thor wrapped one of his large arms around Peter's shoulders without a word, and the teenager felt himself relax ever so slightly.

To say that yesterday was a long day would be an understatement. It felt like a week had gone by since he had unmasked himself to the world, but really it had only been two days. Which was a little crazy, well, if we're being honest Peter's _whole life_ is crazy, so what're ya gonna to do?

The teenager shrugged, chewing on his bottom lip as he forced his eyes back on Clint. It wasn't like Peter really needed to answer the Archer, the man was just as much a spy as Natasha was, he already knew what he needed to know by Peter's body reaction and facial expressions. But even though Peter logically knew this, it just felt weird not to treat them like he would treat everybody else.

"I'll get over it." Peter signed and said at the same time. Except he forgot how to sign 'get over it' so he ended up just kind of moving his arms around in an _'I don't even know'_ expression.

Clint didn't comment on that though, he just nodded his head up and down a few times. "If you're ever _not_ , I'd be happy to let you shoot something. That always makes me feel better." He winked with the statement as Peter stuck his tongue out making a _'bluk'_ sound at the man to show his disgust for the suggestion. Peter did not like shooting things, and that wasn't just because his aim was terrible…(okay that might be a _slight_ factor) But either way Peter still didn't really care for anything lethal, even if it was just aimed at inanimate objects.

"I swear to _god_ \- _Wilson_ , quit micromanaging my cooking," Came Natasha's voice from across the room. Peter hadn't even realized that anyone else was here. The teenager leaned out of Thor's side, stretching his neck out so he could see who was all in his kitchen.

Bruce, Nat, and Sam were all bustling around the small space. (Peter's kitchen wasn't very big, it didn't need to be, Peter was a horrible cook, and most his meals were eaten on the common floor anyway)

"I'm not _micromanaging_ , I was just saying if-" Sam snapped back at Nat, but there was a teasing lilt to his tone. Peter had come to learn that Sam could cook, _quite well actually,_ he did it to calm his nerves and to relax, but he was a bit meticulous when someone else was _'helping'_ him in the kitchen, which, the other Avengers _now had to do_ , being that Sam only had one leg to stand on…hehehe, get it? _One leg_ , cuze he has a broken leg, it was a pun. Peter is punny.

Peter rolled himself onto his feet, opting to keep The Blanket around his shoulders as he walked over to the other three Avengers. Natasha and Sam seemed to be cooking, while Bruce sat at the small kitchen island stirring a whisk in a bowl of batter. He smiled as he saw Peter approaching, so the teenager gave an overly exaggerated grin back to the man, before promptly lifting himself onto the counter (instead of being a _civilized human_ and just sitting on the free stool right next to Bruce) before pulling The Blanket more securely around himself.

"How are you this morning Peter?" Bruce asked as he continued to stir the yellowish batter in the bowl.

Peter raised an eyebrow as he glanced around the kitchen, "Good. Just a bit surprised that all you guys were up here when I woke up."

Bruce nodded, his glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose slightly, but he didn't bother to adjust them. "One of the hazards of living with a large amount of people…" He smirked at Peter then, "they tend to get _nosey_." He mock-whispered.

Peter snorted softly, "It is _tragic_ really." He agreed teasing. "Having bunches of people around _all_ the time." He rolled his eyes in faking irritation.

"It's brutal." Bruce replied, "how they relentlessly care."

"Honestly, I'm fed up with it." Peter nodded.

"It is a huge burden to bear."

"I think we should just leave, Bruce. _Run away."_

"Awe, I agree."

"Then it's set, we'll slip away at nightfall."

Bruce's lips were twitching, trying to hide a smile.

"Be-rid ourselves of these people and all their _awful friendliness,_ " Peter smirked, pulling his legs up and folding them under himself as he hid the rest of his body under The Blanket.

The teen could see Natasha rolling her eyes and Sam shaking his head to himself as he turned to face them. "So, what're we havin' for breakfast _chef boss man?"_ Peter asked Sam, "Hope it's something good since you've _hijacked_ my kitchen." He made sure that Sam could see his joking smile showing that he wasn't serious.

Sam had one crutch balanced under his arm, the other holding a spatula as he waited to flip his food. " _Phh,"_ he breathed out in mock exasperation, "like you ever even _use_ your kitchen, when we came up here there was only a half-eaten box of cocoa puffs and _five_ jars of peanut butter…" Sam paused in his cooking so he could level Peter with a raised eyebrow, " _Five_ Peter… _Five_ …You have a problem."

Peter scoffed placing a hand on his heart as he let his jaw drop, "Peanut butter and I have had a good and solid relationship for _years_ , and no man will stand between us." He told Sam, "Wait…" Peter glanced at the man sharply, "Y-you didn't get _rid_ of them, did you?" He asked slightly panicked, "cuze don't think for one minute I won't throw an injured man out a window, I will _do it_."

Peter heard Bruce snort next to him as Nat's lips twitched in a barely suppressed smile, _ha!_ score, he made them laugh. Sam kept his face neutral for a moment, turning back to the counter without answering.

" _Sam~"_ Peter whined at him, "You _didn't_."

Sam laughed then, "No I didn't. I just put them away."

Peter let himself slump backward, his back bumping into the bowl that Bruce had been stirring as he draped himself over the counter, one leg dangling off as he placed his wrist on his forehead in over exaggerated relief. " _Thank god."_ He breathed out.

"Get off the counter and sit down like a _normal human,_ " Sam told Peter with a wrinkle of his nose.

"…' _Normal'_ …" Natasha murmured to herself as she washed off some blueberries as if the word was foreign or miss used. Her lips pursed.

The teen rolled his head on the edge of the counter looking away from Nat so he could raise an eyebrow at Sam instead, "This is _my_ kitchen, and in _my_ kitchen counters are for sitting."

Sam threw a dish towel at Peter's face making the teen splutter, "Can you please cut up some strawberries?" The man asked in way of response.

Peter moaned as he rolled off the counter and to his feet, pressing on his back to make it crack before he pulled off The Blanket, not wanting to throw it on the floor, though, Peter decided to drape it over Bruce's back, he felt the man pat his retreating hand as he placed it on his shoulders, but other than that Bruce didn't comment on the action.

"I shall be your _kitchen slave,_ " Peter told Sam as he washed off his hands with some too fragrant soap, the teen wrinkled his nose at the container, he needed to get a different scented one, preferably the next would _not_ smell like rich old lady.

"But first, can you _please_ tell me what we're making?" Peter asked as he wiped off his hands. There was random fruit sitting on the counters and two different bowls of batter as well as a bag of flour and sugar, and well, Peter still had no idea what Sam and Natasha were cooking or _baking?_

"We're having a waffle bar," Natasha told him as she brushed past the teen and pulled open a waffle maker, (how had Peter missed that?) before grabbing a bowl and pouring some batter into it.

"Oh." Was all Peter had to say to that at first, now all the fruit made sense. His stomach gave a happy grumble at the news, Peter hadn't ever had a waffle smorgasbord before (heh, he just got to use the word _'smorgasbord'_ in a sentence, how cool is that?!) He was totally going to put peanut butter on one of his waffles to get a rise out of Sam too. But what was a waffle bar without- "Do we have whipped crea-" Peter began to ask, he was suddenly shot in the face with something wet.

The teen yelped in surprise, ( _darn spider-sense didn't even go off!)_ before he wiped at his cheek finding that it was indeed _whipped cream_. Peter turned glaring at the direction it had come from. And sure enough, Clint was now sitting on the counter just like Peter had been a moment ago, spraying whipped cream into his mouth with a smug look on his face.

"… _How,"_ Peter said monotone. The Archer had the worst _(best)_ timing. And it was irritating.

The blond winked at him, "I'm just that good." He said through a mouth full of cream.

Peter crossed his arms, "Or just that _horrible_." Clint smiled making whipped cream show on his teeth. And that is when Natasha sprayed Clint in the face with another can of whipped cream.

Clint laughed. "That's fair." He said, wiping at his face and trying (and failing) to lick some of the cream off of his nose.

"Children," Sam said quietly, fondly, shaking his head to himself.

Peter hummed in a way of agreement, (though he doubted that that statement had been meant to be heard) before he turned to some fruit and grabbed a container of strawberries, washing them so he could begin to slice them up.

The teen liked these types of mornings. He knows he's said that before, that he has babbled about how good it feels to be part of a team, part of a _family_ again. But it was just so true, having people around, being allowed to just be _him_ , it made Peter feel content in a way that he hasn't in a very long time.

"So," He began after a few minutes of comfortable silence, he, Sam, and Nat busy preparing food, Clint lazing on the counter, Bruce messing with a Stark Pad, Thor and Cap lounging in the livingroom. "Whose idea was it to have a _waffle-licious_ feast?" He asked.

There was a good stack of waffles now resting on a plate haphazardly, Natasha somehow moved around the pile without knocking them over, ( _spies_ , thinkin' they're so cool…cuze y'know, they _are_ ) she was setting up the bowls of fruit and a few cans of whipped cream, and even some chocolate chips, and to Peter's delight (and Sam's _dismay_ ) peanut butter.

"Tony was the one that suggested it." She said, popping a raspberry into her mouth and leaning an elbow onto the counter. Her hair was up in a bun on the crown of her head, a few wisps of red hair falling out and framing her face. It reminded Peter that he still had his own hair in a ponytail on the top of his head. (He'd be lucky if no one had snuck a picture of him while he wasn't looking)

"Tony?" Peter wondered aloud. If this had been _Tony's_ idea then where was the man?

* * *

Tony had a few _errands_ to run.

And by 'errands', Tony meant he had some _business_ to take care of.

Said business's name was _J. Johan Jameson_. Mhh hum…Tony's reaction precisely. The billionaire was currently in one of his cars headed towards the Daily Bugle ready to rip the man a new one.

And believe you me, Tony has wanted to go down to the Daily Bugle to knock a few heads together before. The Bugle has been bad mouthing Spidey for years, saying down right slanderous things, and publishing blatant lies about Spiderman. But Tony had always restrained himself from doing anything about it because it wasn't _his_ place, but today… _oh oh oh_ , _today_ things had become _personal._

Tony swerved into an open spot on the side of the street, slamming the door shut as he got out and made his way across the road and to the tall skyscraper. The billionaire ignored the people gawking and staring at him as he crossed the street, on a regular day Tony would throw the people a smile, might even take a picture or two, but at this moment Tony had something he needed to do, and he wasn't willing to slow down his steps let alone _stop_ for a few _fans._

Tony had planned for today to be filled with random fun and distraction. After the rough weekend that Peter had been having Tony thought the kid needed it. Especially after Tony and the team talked to Murdock yesterday, and found out that the kid's day had gone from bad to worse. The billionaire had even grabbed a huge amount of sugar and fruit so the team could surprise the kid with a waffle bar this morning.

But right before the adults had headed upstairs JARVIS had said that Pepper needed to talk to Tony. So, saying that he would catch up with the group later Tony had gone into Pepper's office thinking over all the various reasons she could be mad at him, coming up with frankly, a _slight bit too many_ , Tony had plastered on a guilty smile and approached the beast (don't get him wrong, he loved Pepper…but that didn't mean he wasn't afraid of her)

And Pepper was a bit snarky with him lately. Being that the two were on a break until Tony figured out a few things (Pepper's words not his) not that that meant they weren't on good terms, they _were_. It had just made the relationship strained and a bit, _uncomfortable_.

"Hey, _honey?"_ Tony had greeted her uncertain.

Pepper had raised an eyebrow, looking amused before she blinked down to some paperwork. "Tony." She replied, her voice not portraying what she was thinking whatsoever. Tony swore that nonchalant-ness was Pepper's superpower, and she used it to make him _squirm_.

Tony plopped himself in a chair with a sigh, "may I say you look _positively fabulous_ in that button up blouse of yours." He told her, fiddling with his watch as he waited for her to reply.

Pepper had snorted, rolling her eyes before she pushed away a few documents, and finally looked at Tony with those bright blue eyes of hers. "While I find your groveling flattering, you are not in trouble." She had told him, "I have something I need you to look over."

Tony had waved a hand, starting to stand so that he could go upstairs with the rest of the team, "Whatever it is, can wait," he had told Pepper, "why don't you come up to the kid's floor for breakfast Pep?"

Pepper had shaken her head, pulling out a vanilla folder and sliding it across her desk. "You're going to want to look at this Tony."

With a resigned sigh the billionaire had taken the folder and slid out the first document, scanning over the page for a moment before he asked, "Who's suing me _now_?" with an eyeroll, people were suing Tony left and right it seemed, it was old news by now, why did Pepper need him for this?

"No one's suing _you_ , Tony." Pepper had stated, her lips pursed as she waited for Tony to reread all the people and names involved. And when Tony did read over everything more carefully, he understood why Pepper had called him up here, why she needed him to look this over.

Because _he_ was not the one being sued.

Tony pushed open the glass doors of the Daily Bugle, his sunglasses in place and his overpriced (but _sexy_ ) dress shoes squeaking slightly on the tiled floor. The man walked up to the receptionist desk, placing his forearms down on the surface as he gave a smile to the Asian woman that sat there.

"Hello, Ms.-" Tony glanced down to the name tag clipped to the girl's jacket, "-Yu, could you please tell me where to find J. Jameson?" He asked, cocking his head to the side slightly as he waited for an answer.

"Uh-uh, floor fifteen, his office is hard to miss." The woman said with a point at the elevator, her hand was shaking slightly, her big brown eyes never leaving Tony as she bilked at him in shock.

"Thank you." The billionaire said absently as he turned away headed towards the elevator and pressing the button. He almost wished he had come in one of his Iron Man suits. But Tony knew he could be compulsive on a good day, and coming to yell at a man while in weaponized armor was probably not a good idea.

The doors shut a moment later and Tony was ascending upward, there was no music in this elevator unlike his own, which was currently playing a mixture of hard rock and classical music, thanks to the never-ending war he and Pepper have been playing at for months now. (Tony knew the team had a pull going to see who would win _that_ little battle. And if they weren't rooting for Pep they were idiots)

Tony clenched and unclenched his fists a few times, breathing out through his nose and trying to steady himself. And with that the doors opened and Tony raised his shoulders in confidence and walked out, pressing his mouth into a firm line, that said he was here purely on business and not pleasure.

The place was bustling with people and loud chatter, but the moment that Tony walked in the loud voices began to taper off into whispers and shocked stares. Tony gave the reporters a smirk that he didn't feel, even waggled his eyebrows a bit as he walked straight to the editor's office. Give the vultures a show, maybe they'd spin something completely ridiculous for Tony to laugh at later.

Tony heard someone try to stop him as he opened the editor's door, or maybe it was just a warning that Tony should beware of the beast that lay behind the cheap chipped wood door in front of him, Tony wouldn't doubt it. But when Tony was determined (and he was) it took a lot to stop him from getting his way…Tony liked getting his way.

 _"Who said you could come waltzing into-"_ Jameson started to yell, swirling around in his chair before he saw _who_ was storming into his office. _"Stark."_ He eyed Tony, his upper lip twitching with clear distaste.

"I _uh,"_ another man with square glasses and greasy hair, mumbled looking uncomfortable, "Mr. Jameson should I-"

 _"Out!"_ Jameson yelled, his pricing blue eyes never looking away from the billionaire in front of him. The younger man grabbed a few papers, some falling to the floor in his urgency, before he slipped past Tony without another word.

The billionaire eyed the man in front of him, willing his anger down. Tony needed to play this just right, needed to make himself _very clear,_ "aren't you gonna offer me a seat?" He asked, his voice monotone.

Jameson said nothing for a moment, "if you want to talk Stark, your gonna have to make an appointment with my lawyers." He tried to brush Tony off, but if you knew Tony at all, then you knew he wasn't a man you could get rid of.

Tony walked up kicking the ratty looking chair out of his way, making it rattle against the carpeted floor, before he leaned forward on palms, putting his weight on the rickety old desk, "listen carefully you self-absorbed _prick,"_ Tony snarled, getting into the other man's personal space, but Jameson didn't back down. "You're going to drop this unjustified lawsuit against Peter-"

" _Unjustified?!"_ Jameson growled, interrupting Tony as he launched upward, and to his feet sending his office chair backward and into the wall, he was taller than Tony by a few inches, but he seemed small and petty. "I _paid_ that menace to take damn _selfies_!" He bellowed, did this guy have no other volume?

"I know what you paid him Jameson," Tony didn't raise his voice, he wouldn't stoop to this man's level, letting emotion control your actions is what made people make stupid decisions. And Tony couldn't afford to be stupid right now, not when Peter was who he was fighting for. "I also know that this is a _hostile environment_ for a _minor_ to work in, and that _blatant lies_ are allowed to be published as _fact_ in this joke of a _newspaper_. It would seem that a grown man has a _vendetta_ towards a mere _child_ , and is now suing on wrongful terms in order to fuel said vendetta."

Jameson glared, his bushy eyebrows moving down to cover his eyes, as his lips curled, "why are you _here_ Stark?" he growled.

"To make something clear," Tony said, feeling that same hot anger he had felt when he had read _Peter's_ name instead of his own on those lawsuit papers. "You can go ahead and sue Peter, I have the best lawyer's money can buy, and I don't doubt that I will win."

Tony let a smirk slide onto his face, showing that he believed every word that he just said. It was true, Jameson had money, but he would never be able to afford the kind of people that Tony could, the billionaire knew he would win, that wasn't the problem here. "But I would _reconsider_ the lawsuit, if I were you, Jameson."

This was about how Peter would deal with knowing he was already being sued after just a few days of being unmasked. The transition into this new public life was already going to be hard on the kid, he didn't need anything else making this already long road even _longer_. And Tony would be damned if he let some _asshole_ like this be the cause of any more grief for the teenager.

Jameson's lips puckered in distaste, his eyes flashing with fury "And why in _hell_ would I reconsider?" He roared some spittle flying out of his mouth and landing on the dusty desk.

Tony stepped back then, adjusting the sleeves of his suit and pretending to look disinterested. "You know John, I'm thinking of buying the Daily Bugle." Tony refrained from smirking as he saw the other man jerk to attention, "you see, I have _all_ this money, and I never know what to do with it. I was thinking of letting Peter take a crack at being _editor_ …"

Jameson's teeth made an audible noise as he ground them together. "Are you _threatening_ me Stark?" He asked his tone finally not an unashamed scream.

Tony looked away from his sleeve and side-eyed the man, still going for a nonchalant attitude, "A threat? _No. Nononono._ I was just asking your opinion; do you think Peter would like to play editor? Because I think the kid would _really_ enjoy it."

Jameson turned, his hands balled into fists and shaking with his repressed rage, "get out," he spoke to the wall, he sounded defeated, just like Tony wanted him.

"Overstayed my welcome, _hum?"_ Tony asked as he turned towards the door, he opened it wide, letting the squeak announce that he was leaving. Tony reveled in the feeling of pride swelling in his chest at having won, he had saved Peter some grief. _Thank god._

But Tony still had one more thing to say. The billionaire turned back to the man behind him, before he shut the door, "don't mess with _my kid_ again J." He let his voice be stern and angry for this part, showing that his threats weren't idle. "You mess with Peter, you mess with me, and my bite is sure as hell worse than my bark…"

* * *

 **Do not mess with Tony and his adoptive family...he will _mess you up._**

 **Alright, I will not be a ghost at this point, (sorry about that, stupid life kickin my butt) I will strive to be better! *points to sky* Next chapter will be uh, feeding into more of the plot rather than be filler.**

 **Until then, you guys are awesome, Fernandidilly-yo is outta here!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Hey, a chapter! _kind of, sort of,_ on time...**

 ***high-fives self without enthusiasm* Yay Fernando...woo...** **༼ つ ಥ_ಥ ༽つ**

* * *

 ** _Chapter 7:_**

 **(Three Weeks Later)**

Peter was late.

Peter was _always_ late.

"Hey, gotta squeeze by," The teenager said as he slipped past the crowds of people, "excuse me- pardon me _\- oopsies!_ my bad- sorry sir- I mean _ma'am_ \- _crap carp crap_ -" Peter let himself be swallowed by the massive amount of people as he dodged sharp elbows and pretended not to see people's glares directed at him.

Ah, New York.

Home sweet home.

Don't you just love _anger management issues_ in the morning?

Peter had opted to take the subway rather than swing today (which at this moment he was starting to regret) because he was incognito ( _oh yeah,_ Peter was one of those _super_ _cool_ celebrities now) trying to blend into the crowd.

Peter thought he did a very good job of looking _normal_ …okay, yeah it wasn't _that_ hard, Peter had been a 'nobody' for most of his life so he knew how to be a _semi-functional human_ …

Once Peter had learned that it was all about covering up his _face_ , then it had made things easier. New York was crowded and busy, so unless someone looked straight at Peter, and then had the thought _'I think that's Peter Parker_ AKA _Spiderman!'_ no one was going to think he was anything but a dorky teenager.

Yes, Peter was letting his true-self be his disguise… ( _Look out world! Peter Parker is letting his nerdiness shine through!)_ It was a little weird really, instead of an actual mask being his, well… _mask_. It was a pair of sunglasses a blue beanie and an oversized green jacket. It had made Peter feel almost naked at first, being outside as himself, and knowing that at any second, he could be recognized as Spiderman.

But after almost a month of the world knowing he was Spiderman things have cooled down to an extent, and Peter would like to think he is getting a hold of the swing of things, (heh, get it _swing_ of things!?) don't get him wrong, it had been pure madness at first, and Peter had completely regretted unmasking for the first few weeks. The thought that it had all been a mistake and the anxiety over everything making Peter feel sick with worry.

Once the news got out that Tony was trying to adopt Peter and that the teenager was _living_ at the Avengers Tower, people had started showing up. Peter had been surprised to see the large crowd of civilians setting up tents and even little coffee/food stands down at the base of the Tower.

It was weird as heck, waking up looking out his window and seeing a massive amount of people all waiting for him, not that the situation hadn't been good for Peter's ego and self-confidence (which had both taken a _major_ beating)

But after a few days' New Yorkers were starting to get bored of waiting, (some even trying to sneak into the Tower) and the large amount of people, instead of diminishing, had started increasing; making it hard for the employees that worked inside the Tower to get home at night, and it had become a hassle.

So, after a few days of being sealed in the safety of the Tower, ( _pouting in his pajamas and sitting around watching movies and sparing with his team)_ Peter finally decided that he needed to face the crowd. It shouldn't have been a scary thing, Peter faced bad-guys and villains all the time, but that was when he was _Spidey_. That was when he had the mask as a shield and a protection, now with it off, he had no choice but to be _Peter_.

And that, that right there was _frightening_.

Maybe not in the same sense of the word that the teenager usually used it for, it wasn't scary in the same way it was when Peter fought against Doc Ock or the Green Goblin. _Sure. Yeah. Okay._ Peter could agree that this wasn't the same.

But he was _used_ to dealing with that kind of fear. Which again, might sound really stupid, comparing a life-threatening situation with something as mundane as going to confront a few hundred fans. But it _was_ scary, it _was_ anxiety inducing, and Peter wasn't going to lie about that fact.

But Peter being well, _Peter_ , had come up with an icebreaker. One that he had hoped would take some pressure and weight off his shoulders; give the crowd a show, and they would be satisfied, _right?_

So, Peter had thrown on his suit and ridden the elevator down to the lobby of the building with Tony and Cap at his sides. (Peter had insisted that he didn't need _all_ the Avengers to come with him, but he did appreciate having the two men with him, just in case) Tony was used to crowds and talking to the press, and Cap was someone that could control and quiet people down with nothing but a look; so he was great backup as well.

The moment that JARVIS unlocked the doors Spidey pushed them open and forced himself to walk out, and the first thing that Peter registered was that the people were _loud_. The civilians beside themselves at seeing Spiderman, screaming his name, clapping in delight and jumping in joy. It was a _little_ extreme and a _lot_ overwhelming.

People had reached out for Peter, hands grabbing at his spandex and fingers poking at him, but none of those touches were meant to _hurt_ the teenager. They just seemed to want to feel that he was _really_ there, that Spiderman was _really_ standing among the crowd.

And yeah, at first it had been a bit much, the mass of fans pressing in on Spidey and people shouting random things at Peter. But once Spidey reminded himself that these were _his_ people, they were _New Yorkers_ , they were the community that he fought to protect, and they just wanted nothing more than to _see him_ , it helped ease some of his anxiety.

Peter loosened a bit after he remembered that, giving out high-fives and fist-bumps, complimenting the different homemade signs that people had crafted, and accepting the gifts people offered. But after a moment people began to pull at his mask, asking for photos, but ones with Peter's _bear face._

And then it had turned into a chant, the crowd all yelling, _"mask, mask, mask-"_ over and over again, the ball of anxiety in the teenager's chest had tightened at the request, but a moment later he had felt Steve's hand squeezing his shoulder in reassurance, and Peter had forced a breath out, had forced himself to relax, he had _prepared_ for this, he had known this would happen. It would be okay, and if it wasn't… _well,_ Steve and Tony had Peter's back.

So, with that Peter had taken a step forward, and spread out his arms, trying to mimic what Tony might do in the situation, going for _pizazz_ and _glamor_ , in place of his _anxious_ and slightly _awkward_ demeanor. And then Spidey had asked the crowd, _"you want me to take off my mask?!"_ Making his tone playful and light, teasing the people.

The responding _"YES!"_ from the onlookers had about deafened Peter, but he forced a laugh instead. Motioning his hands in an _'okay'_ sort of gesture before he brought his spandex covered fingers to the seam of his mask.

And with that Spidey had pulled the fabric from his head, only to reveal a crappy paper _Batman_ mask hidden underneath. At first, the people had gone silent, and Peter thought that his little _icebreaker_ hadn't worked like he thought it would. His voice had been choked when he said, _"I am the night...?"_ his tone making it sound like a question.

That had done it, the crowd, (for the most part) laughed before giving Peter a round of applause (which the teenager had not been expecting) and that was the last thing Peter needed for that ball of anxiety to unravel and dissipate. So, breathing out a large sigh, Spidey had pulled off the slightly crumpled Batman mask (that he had printed himself) and threw it up in the air, revealing his actual face and feeling himself smile as the crowd went wild.

That little meet and greet had actually helped Peter a lot. He got to spend a good amount of time with those people, signing autographs, taking silly pictures, and receiving so many cards, pictures, and gifts that Tony, Steve, _and_ Peter had all had their arms full by the time they said goodbye to the crowd.

The people had started trickling away after that. It seemed that they just wanted a chance to meet Spidey and thank him for all that he's done. And Peter still feels warm inside when he thinks about it. Because, _honestly,_ the teenager just hadn't thought that people cared all that much. It was truly shocking.

Spidey has now made a public Twitter account that he randomly tweets on, posting photos of him wearing or using the gifts that people send or give him, thanking them and sometimes answering people's questions. (Peter has also uploaded a few videos of him pranking Clint, which went viral, _thank you very much_ ) And now they are having a prank war that is _very_ public, and _very_ embarrassing.

"Gotta get by- sorry- _ouch!-_ that hurt- that was rude- elbow to the face- watch out for _that man!_ his elbows are made of _steel_ -" Peter rushed past, well, all the _other_ rushing people, _hey!_ he fits in! _Goody._

Because as he stated before, he is _late_. Peter has been working on getting his high school diploma for a couple months now, taking classes online and going down to the community college for a few refresher courses, in order to get the remainder of his high school credits. (Which took some work, but wasn't very hard considering that Peter was ahead and had most his credits already completed)

And now Peter is taking his final test at the community college with a few other kids, and hopefully, he'll pass so that he can claim his diploma and finally move on to actual university courses. Which is like Peter _dream_ , so- _fingers crossed_.

Though it is only a month from Summer, so Peter will have to wait to _really_ start up any university classes. But that's okay because the teenager is still picking where he might want to go, now that Peter has _money_ , he has _options_. Not that he is bragging or anythi-

Peter's spider-sense tingled faintly as three police cars speed by, their sirens blaring as they raced down the street in the opposite direction that Peter was headed. "Oh, _com'on."_ The teenager whined, smacking a hand to his thigh as he stared dejectedly at the fading police vehicles. "I was- - _already late_ \- - and- - _uhhhggg_ -"

With a lengthy moan of despair (that had a few people staring at Peter in worry and disgust) the teenager jumped up and shot out a web, the sticky end catching on a building and carrying the teenager away quickly.

And with that, Peter's cover was _officially blown_ ; and now people were yelling in delight and taking pictures of him as they waved and called for him. _Darn_. It had been good while it lasted…

Okay, so can Peter talk about the fact that he is _web-slinging_ in his _civvies_? Because _weird much?_ The teenager, of course, has his suit stuffed in his messenger bag that is now currently flopping against his hip (because _Peter is always prepared like that_ ) but honestly, he doesn't have _time_ to change if he wants to get this over with and make it to his test within the hour. So, civvies it is, just a perk of being known to the public huh?

Whatever was going on was only five blocks away from where Peter had been (he could already hear the shouting) and it took the teen no time at all to pull off his bag and throw it to a nearby rooftop as he landed down on the street with a protested-squeak from his red chucks.

He was at a bank (because _apparently,_ Peter's whole life was a movie) the entrance blocked off by multiple police cars and policemen standing behind the vehicles with their guns pointed outward. And standing just outside the bank was a woman dressed as a _rabbit?_

Peter scoffed, "The Easter Bunny would be _appalled_ ," he quipped, cocking his head to the side as he scanned over the woman in front of him. She wore a short blue trench coat with two tails, a white leotard, big fuzzy boots, and well, a _bunny mask_.

"Who are you supposed to be?" The rabbit-girl asked, her nose scrunching in distaste as she looked over the teen in front of her.

"Uh," Peter drew out the sound, placing a hand on his hip as he leaned to the side, "your friendly neighborhood _Spider-Parker_." He said in a _'duh'_ tone, rolling his eyes behind the sunglasses he still had on.

The woman made a sound somewhere between a snarl and a gasp before pulling out a pink umbrella, _"well in that case!"_ She yelled right before Peter's spider-senses rang sharply in his skull.

The teenager flipped away as shots fired out from the umbrella ( _how the heck had this become Peter's life?!_ ) landing on a nearby police car in his famous Spiderman crouch, which by the way felt awfully weird in jeans, Peter called, "be _careful_!" at the rabbit, "you could have _shot_ me!"

Spidey felt the edges of his lips pick up as he heard a few policemen snicker behind him, _yup, yup,_ Peter knew he was hilarious.

"Kinda what I was hoping for," the rabbit replied before shooting again, the policemen ducked under the protection of their cars, the glass of their windows shattering from the spray of bullets.

Peter sprang out of the way and behind the rabbit, but right before he was able to grab the umbrella/gun the woman turned and hit him square in the face with _said umbrella_. Spidey blinked as he watched his sunglasses fall to the ground in pieces. "~ _Ooo,"_ the teenager started, slapping both hands to his cheeks and giving the rabbit-girl a wide-eyed stare, "Tony's gonna be _~mad_ ," he stated saying it in a way a child might to a sibling who was in trouble.

Ribbit-girl growled before stomping on the sunglasses and breaking them further, a moment later trying to kick Peter in the face. The teenager caught her leg as he yelled " _rude!"_ Before he twisted her around and snagged the umbrella, throwing it toward the police as the rabbit kneed him in the gut.

" _Okay,"_ Spidey gasped, "not that this isn't fun 'n all. But as another rabbit once said-" Peter began to quote as he spun the woman around trapping her in a web and ignoring her spluttering swears as he talked over her, _"I'm late, I'm late, for a very important date! No time to say_ 'hello' _… Goodbye. I'm late, I'm late, I'm late!"_

And with that Spidey shoved the weirdo rabbit to the ground, gave the boys-in-blue a two-fingered salute and launched himself back into the air, webbing his bag to himself and taking off towards the community college which he was supposed to be arriving at in about—awe yes, _fifteen minutes ago…_

* * *

 _Peter was_ never _taking a test_ ever _again!_

Okay, that was a lie. If Peter wanted to attend a university (which he _did_ ) then he was going to end up taking a bunch more tests and quizzes in the future. But he was all quizzed out today, and the teenager vowed to never answer another question again! (For the next few days at least) His brain felt _mushy._

Peter turned the next corner of the long hallway he was currently in. He had just finished his test and was now headed back to the Tower. Or, _no,_ he changed his mind- Peter felt jittery and hyper, he'd go swinging for a while before he headed home he decided.

Peter had ended up being twenty-something minutes late for his test and the teenager had thought he would need to reschedule. But when he had stumbled in, his chest heaving and his face bruised, asking if he was too late the teacher/overseer had given Peter his test packet and said that he wouldn't mind waiting an extra few minutes for Peter to finish his test. Saying _'it was the least he could do for their city's hero'_ with a wink and a small smile.

Peter was starting to see some of the perks of being outed as a superhero, it was kind of nice. Okay, not ' _kind of'_ , it was really, _really_ nice. Not that Peter intended to take advantage of said _perks_ , it would be selfish to make people wait for him or go out of their way for him, just because he was _Spiderman_. That wasn't how being a _hero_ worked.

Even with being twenty minutes late, the teenager had still finished on time. Peter had actually been ahead of a few other kids that were in there, and now Peter was trying his darndest to get out of the college before the next set of classes were released, because without his sunglasses it was just his hoodie that covered up his identity and you can bet that Peter would be mauled by Spidey fans in this place.

The teenager turned the next corner sharply, his converses squeaking against the linoleum floor as he rushed to beat the bell. Or wait…did colleges have bells? Or was it like- " _the bell does not release you,_ I _release you_ " because that would be kind of cool.

Bell or no bell Peter made it outside without incident. The teenager kept walking as he made his way through a patch of freshly cut grass, not paying attention as he slipped out of his green coat and scoped out a building that he could change into his Spidey suit on before he took a midday patrol.

Evidently, it was Peter's lack of attention that made him the perfect target.

And with just the slightest buzz from his spider-sense, Peter was suddenly surrounded on all sides. His bag and coat being ripped away from him as he gave a startled shout. " _What the heck guys!"_ He protested, his voice coming out muffled as his shirt was forcibly lifted from his body.

"Hey! _quit it!"_ He shouted as Thor manhandled him into place with a chuckle. Before Clint pinned up the teenager's wiggling arms, and Natasha then pulled Peter's NASA t-shirt off with a practiced ease, before Clint then slipped a long-sleeved shirt onto the teenager's body in replacement.

Peter smacked at the archer, glaring at the group of Avengers as he took a step back, "I don't know what I'm feeling more- _violated_ or _confused_ ," he griped, as he looked down at his newly acquired shirt with a lot of confusion. It was a bright blue with red letters outlined in white spelling something on the front, but before Peter could try to decipher the upside-down and backward words a flash went off in front of him.

The teen's nose scrunched as he looked up, finding that Clint had taken out a camera (and yeah, that was definitely Peter's camera) and snapped a photo of Peter's rumpled and confused form. " _Why."_ Peter breathed the word, it _wasn't_ a question.

"We come with congratulations," Tony said with a smile, holding the teenager's messenger bag in one hand while Steve stood next to him holding Peter's stolen shirt.

Sam stepped forward then, (he had gotten the cast off two weeks ago, and was now _a free man_ ) placing a hand on Peter's shoulder as he gave a smile, "yup, congrats kid, you did it," he said before the rest of the Avengers came up to pat and greet Peter.

"Tis a proud day,"

"Awe, we're so proud of our _little boy_ ,"

"You did good,"

"Graduating is a big accomplishment Peter,"

"Good job son."

The adults all spoke over one another as Peter's back was smacked, his hair ruffled, his hand shook, and then pulled from one hug to another.

The teenager stumbled, blinking in a daze as he looked up at his team. "Uh, guys," he mumbled, feeling a little dizzy from the random praise the adults just gave him. "We don't get the results back for another _two weeks_ , we don't actually know if I passed." He informed.

Tony waved a hand through the air dismissively, "you passed kid, you're a big brain like Brucie and me, no way you failed." The billionaire said as he slung an arm over Bruce's shoulder, making the two of them rock to the side slightly.

"And now we get to _celebrate_ ," Clint whisper-shouted, placing all of his weight on Peter's back as he leaned on the teenager, before bringing up the camera again and saying loudly " _selfie!"_ and taking a picture of Peter and himself.

Peter shoved the archer off with a laugh, pulling the shirt forward so that he could try to read what was scrawled over the front. "Okay, so we're celebrating," Peter restated, "but I still don't get how that warranted a strip tease," someone smacked the back of Peter's head lightly at the word choice, he was guessing Natasha.

Clint shoved the camera into Peter's chest then, allowing the teenager to take it so he could see the photo displayed on the small screen. Peter brought it up to his face squinting for a moment " _oh my god_ …" the teenager gawked.

It was the picture that Clint had first taken, Peter's confused face displayed in the photo, the teenager zoomed out so he could look over the full picture. Finally seeing what the shirt said that he was now _currently wearing_.

Across the blue shirt in bold red letters read- **MY AVENGERS ARE SO PROUD OF ME!** -Peter felt his mouth fall open, "you _didn't_ ," he said in shock before looking back up to find each one of the adults opening up their own jackets to show matching shirts that read- **WE'RE SO PROUD OF OUR SPIDER-GRADUATE!**

"Oh, but we did," Tony sing-songed sounding far too proud of himself as he gave a smug smile. "All for our _spider-graduate_."

Peter was trying for exasperation, but his smile gave him away, "you guys are all such nerds, _I swear_." He told them as he looked back down to his own shirt. This was unexpected, to say the least.

Sam smiled wide as he clapped Peter on the back, "you know you love it." He said softly, leaning on the teenager in a partial hug.

"Embarrassing you is our job now," Clint agreed, coming and hanging off of Peter's other side.

Peter glanced up looking over the group of adults all wearing matching t-shirts, smiles on their faces, and all looking pleased with themselves. "I think you're all just embarrassing yourselves." The teenager informed.

"Eh, we're too awesome to get embarrassed," Clint said with a shrug. Before randomly pulling a selfie-stick out of nowhere (Peter was too afraid to ask) and making the _'gimme'_ motion with his hand for Peter's camera.

Peter clutched the device to his chest, as he glared at the Archer. " _No way_ Barton," he shook his head, "you are _not_ putting one of my cameras on a freakin _selfie stick_." _Nope, nope, nope._ Peter _refused_ ; selfie sticks were a stupid idea and as a _real_ photographer, Peter _loathed_ them.

Clint shrugged, with a dismissive air, "fine, we can just wait for someone to come by and take the picture _for us_ if that's what you want." His tone was noncaring, unimpressed; as the man began twirling the _stupid-selfie-stick_ around his fingers, Clint whistle to himself then, glancing around for a passerby.

Peter felt his eyes go wide, " _no no_ , selfie-stick is fine!" He proclaimed a little too loudly, as he fumbled to hand the camera over. _Okay, yes,_ Peter _hated_ selfie sticks, but it was the lesser of the two evils. No way was Peter letting anyone see him and the team dressed like _this_.

Clint's smirk was wicked as he spun the camera onto the contraption. His head bobbing back and forth in smugness at having won. Peter resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the man.

Out of all the Avengers Clint was probably the one that Peter felt most on equal ground with. And that wasn't referring to the Archer's skill set because the teenager _knew_ Hawkeye could beat the heck outta him without much strain. (it had happened more than once)

Peter was talking about the man's personality. Sure, Clint could buckle down and be serious if the situation warranted it. (Peter could too. _To an extent_ ) But for the most part Clint was all jokes and playfulness, and yeah, he could be a bit annoying at times but not in a way that Peter would ever want to _stop_.

Clint being a goof and a butthead helped Peter to feel less like a kid in the midst of a bunch of grownups. And yes, _technically_ Clint was _supposed_ to be an adult. But the fact that he didn't always act like it gave Peter and the Archer a whole different kind of relationship.

After a moment (of Peter shaking his head in mock irritation and Clint whistling in fake-casualness) the rest of the Avengers huddled around the teenager; pressing in so they would all be in frame, Thor holding out the selfie-stick because he had the longest arms, Clint giving Peter bunny ears, and Tony ruffling his hair.

The moment the camera's timer went off, the slight _'click'_ was drowned out as the glass doors to the college opened to let out a mass of students, young adults all shuffling out of the building and into the courtyard. It of course only took the students a few moments before they noticed the heroes, and before Peter could so much as _run_ , the crowd had already pulled out their cellphones and began taking pictures, leaving Peter's face red and blushing as he placed his head into his hands with a reserved sigh.

And no, colleges evidently, _do not have bells_.

* * *

"Alright, kiddo," Tony began, clapping his hands together, "you can take the blindfold off now." He said from somewhere in front of Peter.

After the teenager had been thoroughly embarrassed back at the college, the team had told Peter they had a _surprise_ for him, and then Peter had found himself on the Quinjet with a thick blindfold tied around his head and many questions on his tongue.

But the adults had refused to tell him where they were going or what they were doing. So, Peter had instead listened to Thor tell a story of _'rigorous battle'_ as he tapped a beat on his bouncing knee impatiently, the urge to slip the blindfold off, hard to refute. But Steve's warm shoulder pressed to his, made certain the teenager didn't so much as try to touch the cloth.

It only took around fifteen minutes to get _wherever_ they were going, and then Steve had carefully lead Peter down the ramp of the Quinjet with two large hands placed on the teenager's shoulders ushering him forward.

"O- _kay?_ " Peter drew out the word, making his suspicion bleed into his tone. Before lifting his hands up to finger off the blindfold.

"It's nothing malicious," Steve said from behind the teenager, his smirk evident in his voice.

"Well, not _entirely,_ " Natasha spoke as Peter pulled off the blindfold, some of his hair got caught in the knot and the teenager winced as he rubbed at his skull. (Thank goodness his hair wasn't as long as it had been a few weeks ago because that would have _hurt_ )

Peter had gone back to see _Renzo_ (Tony's hairdresser) and the man had been ' _utterly_ _appalled'_ with how Peter had let his hair go. The teenager had spluttered at being scolded by the fashionable and stylish Renzo, letting the man drag him off so he could fix Peter's _'monstrosity'_ of a hairstyle.

It had been different being with the man this time around, now that Peter had his _voice back_ he could have an _actual_ conversation with the hairdresser. And Peter had felt himself relax when Renzo said nothing of the fact; and didn't mention that Peter was _Spiderman_ , it was all about his ' _horrid hair'_ , and Peter was okay with that.

"What do you mean ' _not_ _entirely'_?!" The teenager questioned, raising an eyebrow as he glanced around. Peter felt his eyes narrow and his mouth pucker as he took in his surroundings.

They were standing in a very large dark room, the smell of chemicals, maybe _paint or cleaner?_ Drifting into the teenager's nose as he glanced around. Peter looked up at the ceiling taking in the dome above his head and the concrete walls that blocked off his view of what lay on the other side of the building.

"Okay, I'm just really confused," he finally stated, "this looks like the kind of place you would _whack_ a person in."

Sam snorted loudly crossing his arms over his chest as he shifted to be closer to the teenager, "if we were going to _'whack'_ you," he began, "there were much better opportunities than now."

Peter placed a hand over his heart and batted his eyelashes at the man, " _awe,_ I feel so loved." He snarked, smiling amused as Sam kicked Peter's shoe lightly in retort. It was nice having the man back to _fully functional_ again, (though Sam did have to go through a bit of physical therapy to rebuild the muscles in his leg) Peter liked to troll Sam while he did his stretches for PT; coming in and bending himself in ways no normal human could. And then showing off _slightly_ until Sam finally either ended up kicking Peter out or sitting on him…it could go whichever way, honestly.

"What is this place?" Peter finally asked, turning to look over at Tony, because the billionaire was usually the instigator of these types of things. "Also, are you planning to kill me?"

Tony smirked, "this is your surprise," he began, ignoring Peter's mock gasp of _'you brought me a big scary building!?'_ , and continuing "we figured it would help you blow off some steam after your big'ol test."

Peter chewed on his lip, cocking his head to the side in question, "okay…uh, so what'er we doin' then?"

Clint's lips tilted up into a smile as he came over and grabbed Peter by a shoulder leading the teenager around the cement wall and to the other part of the building with the rest of the adults following behind them.

A moment later Peter felt his mouth fall open as he saw the rest of the building. The ceiling/dome was very high up, at least one hundred feet from the ground, if not more, the glass panes of the roof were tinted to make the place dark.

Inside the building was a dirt floor with cement walls (some tall, others not) placed randomly in the arena, which had to be around the size of a football field. There was a little shack in the middle, and Peter could see army netting hung up on the walls and covering little sniper-nests and hideyholes.

" _What?"_ The teenager finally got out around the butterflies in his throat, his arms feeling like jelly at his sides as he looked over the stadium.

Someone patted him on the back before Clint shoved a paintball gun into Peter's arms, the team was now grabbing equipment (that Peter hadn't even noticed until now) strapping on goggles, throwing off their coats/jackets, and picking up their guns.

Peter stumbled over and grabbed his own pair of protective goggles, his brain short-circuiting for the time being. "Is this…is this like, _training_?" He asked as he poured a pack of bright red paintballs into the tank thingy on the top of his gun.

Cap chuckled beside him, "you could look at it that way, but this is more for our enjoyment than anything else." The man answered as he fiddled with his own gun before turning away and pointing it at a cement wall. He fired it a moment later, a splatter of bright blue spraying on the wall with a _'pop'_ of the gun. Steve hummed, "there are so many more activities now." He mumbled, almost to himself.

"Got that right old timer," Tony answered as he placed some goggles on and then waggled his eyebrows at Bruce who rolled his eyes in return, though there was a fond smile on his face.

"Midgard continues to amaze me," Thor spoke as he turned the gun over in his hand, it looked so small in comparison to the thunder god, Peter smirked to himself. " _Pray tell_ , how does the game of _painting balls_ transpire?"

Peter and Clint both snorted so loud they had to turn themselves away. The teenager could feel himself going red as he tried to contain his laughter, and as the teen glanced over to the majority of the team he could see he wasn't the only one having trouble controlling himself.

With a deep breath, Peter turned back around, biting at his quivering lips and breathing through his nose so not to laugh. And what he saw upon turning- was a _very smug_ looking Thor. _Ha!_ The sly tease; he'd done that _on purpose_ , Peter should have known.

Tony scrubbed at his head, before heaving a chuckled sigh, "it's simple, we all run around this place trying to shoot each other. And you do _not_ want to get shot because the more you're hit the easier you'll be to spot," Tony smirked here, "because the paint is glow in the dark."

Peter wiggled a bit where he stood, biting on his lip. Because this was _fudging fantastic!_ The teenager could already feel himself getting hyper with joy induced adrenaline. He was going to play _paintball_ , in the _dark_ , with the _Avengers_. The fangirl within Peter was having a mental breakdown right now.

Cap cleared his throat, "we need to set some ground rules," he spoke, "once you're hit, do you have to sit out? And are we forming teams? What abilities are we allowed to use? What's the game plan here?"

Tony nodded spinning the gun around, "we aren't doing the whole ' _you're hit,_ _you're out'_ shebang, that's would kinda be unfair in current company," Tony motioned his head over to Natasha and then Clint with that statement. "That's why we all have one color each, that way we know who hit us." He stated.

Peter glanced down to his own gun, (okay he was _red)_ before he looked around and took in what colors each of the Avengers had. Deciding that the majority of the team was going to go home painted orange and purple.

"As for powers. I wouldn't say they're off limits," Tony went on, giving everyone enough time to look over their teammate's colors. "But nothing major, just gauge yourselves, I don't wanna hav'ta end up paying for this _whole place_ because we destroyed it." Tony cocked an eyebrow before pointing at Thor, "and that means you buddy, _no breaky_."

Thor hit his chest so hard Peter flinched, "I shall keep my tremendous strength at bay." He said nodding, his fist still placed over the center of his broad chest, his blond hair shifting into his face.

Tony rolled his eye before addressing the team as a whole again. "As for teams, I was thinkin' a free-for-all." Tony waited for someone to speak up, to object to the idea, but after a moment without argument the billionaire nodded to himself. "Alright, it's _every man for himself_."

* * *

Peter crouched down behind a half-wall, his gun resting on it as he strained his hearing, but it was hard to tell where anyone was with the loud music playing overhead. _Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger_ by _Daft Punk_ was playing, it's beat making Peter want to _move_ , want to _play_.

Peter's spider-sense hummed lowly (the way it did when someone was going to throw something at him) at the same time the teen heard a faint ' _pop pop'_. Peter went to roll, but the person had shot out twice making it that Peter couldn't dodge one without getting hit with the other.

A big purple splotch was left on the butt of the teen's black jeans a moment later, and Peter sighed as he began running. " _You can't hide forever Clint!"_ He called as he ran through the dirt, his feet feeling cold. (Peter had opted to go barefoot instead of ruining his chucks, plus, _there was the fact that he couldn't climb walls with normal shoes on_ )

" _I don't think you know me very well_ ," Clint yelled back a moment later, his amused voice mixing with the bouncy music echoing off of the walls. Peter was sure the man was held up in one of the sniper-nests. But the teenager couldn't find which one, he wouldn't be surprised if Clint was switching from one to the others.

There was more ' _popping_ ' from the other side of the room, followed by the shout of- "Come back and fight me like a man Wilson!" From Tony, and then more shots fired off, and a moment later- " _ROGERS!"_

Peter snickered to himself as he rounded a corner, but the teenager skidded to a stop as he saw Sam, the man smiled as he pointed his gun and Peter, the teenager did the same, "so it comes to this _old friend_." Peter said in a mock mournful tone.

Sam closed one eye as if aiming, "a standoff." He agreed, his feet planted firmly on the ground, but the playful intimidation was lost slightly because of the brightly glowing paint that stained his t-shirt, the matching one that all the Avengers were currently wearing, Peter would _not_ mourn the loss of them.

Before either of them could shoot, though, both Peter and Sam were hit with splotches of orange, a moment Natasha dashed forward a smirk on her face as she winked, "gonna have to be faster next time boys." She said before running off.

Peter rolled to the side as Sam shot at him, a pink pellet staining the dirt. " _Rude,"_ Peter said, "I was distracted." He snarked before shooting back at the man, Sam easily moved out of the way, red paint glowing on the wall behind the man.

Sam shrugged, "you're always distracted." He informed before getting hit in the chest with black.

" _Haha!"_ Thor's voice boomed from somewhere, Peter opted to run instead of waiting for the blond to find him. "T'was I who shot the Falcon!" The teenager laughed as he heard that, feeling lighter and freer than he has in days.

Dashing forward Peter ran across a wall, his dirty feet leaving prints as he climbed up, the teen was about to flip himself over the wall (which by the way was really odd while holding a gun) when he was hit in the chest with bright green. The teen landed in a crouch on the dirt a moment later, looking down at his stained shirt and calling out "who's _green_?"

"That's Bruce," Steve called back a moment later, he sounded close by, Peter would have to watch out for him.

"Bruce?!" Peter laughed, "Bruce is _green_? That's _hilarious_!" He couldn't help but say, "Bruce I hope you know you're a huge nerd!" Peter called out to the man as the music changed to another techno song Peter didn't recognize.

"Whatever you say, Peter," Bruce called back at the same time Clint said, " _takes one to know one!"_

Peter didn't know how long they had been playing for, at least two hours, if not longer. The game had started off with everyone on guard and trying to be stealthy, but once Tony had Steve had run into each other, their banter and shots echoing off of the walls, things had loosened up and now the arena was _loud_.

A constant _'pop pop pop'_ going as the shots rang out, and people's random shouts called from all around as everyone ran aimlessly. The area was large enough that the team could run and hide, but there was enough of them that if you weren't paying attention you would get hit eventually.

Peter hadn't been surprised when everyone opted to play without armor. It was restricting, and honestly, in their line of work, they got hurt worse in _training_ than they would with paintballs.

Not that they didn't sting, which they _did_ , but Peter didn't actually mind all that much. If he got hit in the first place, he kind of deserved the slight bite. This was really good practice, in all honesty, Natasha and Clint were both amazing shots and if Peter could dodge _them_ , then he wouldn't have any trouble jumping out of the way of half-drunk criminals and the random baddies he ran into on a regular basis.

Not that Peter hadn't gotten hit a bunch of times, he had, his torso now glowing in the dark of the room. He would have been stupid to expect he could out move Clint and Natasha more than just a few times.

Even Steve and Sam were hard to dodge, they were military after all. They both knew how to handle a gun, it was probably second nature to them. It had only taken Steve a few minutes to get used to the paintball guns, and then he had become one of the best players in the game, it was actually really entertaining to watch.

What surprised Peter was how good a shot _Tony_ was. He had run into the man earlier and now Peter had a good amount of yellow on him. Maybe that shouldn't have surprised Peter, the man had been a weapons specialist for years, but Peter hadn't expected it.

Out of everyone, Peter would say he was the worst shooter. He wasn't horrible, but he wasn't a spy or military trained. And if Peter was being wholly honest, he wasn't giving it his all, it was hard for the teenager to point a gun at his friends and fire. Peter had always been a defensive fighter, and it was difficult for the teen to seek people out to attack. So, Peter let his teammates find him, and until then he tried his best to dodge and tune his senses into the game.

Bruce was an okay shot, Peter had come to find, but he was kind of slow to react or fire. He seemed to calculate before shooting, but he didn't usually miss his mark. Peter thinks he might have teamed up with Clint, because it seemed like Bruce was in one of the sniper-nests, and god only knows how he could have managed that without the archers a-ok.

Thor was pretty much the opposite of Bruce, he was trigger happy and loud, the thunder god instead of shooting one or two pellets would fire off as many as he could, hoping that one would hit his mark. And in the end half, the arena was painted in glowing black.

Peter thinks that is downright _hilarious_.

Suddenly _One Way or Another_ by _Blondie_ came on, Peter burst out laughing, before yelping as he jumped out of the way of purple and green paintballs. Who in the heck had put this song in the playlist!? Because it was _amazing._

Peter fired out at the direction he thought the shots had come from knowing he couldn't possibly hit the men, but trying nonetheless, as he scuttled backward. A moment later Peter's back hit something warm and solid. The teen froze at the contact, going rigid before turning and finding Steve's smiling face.

"Hi'ya Cap," Peter greet with a little wave of his fingers and a sheepish smile.

Steve's smirk went wider as he leaned down to whisper playfully into the teen's ear, " _run,"_ he breathed.

Peter didn't need to be told twice. Screaming and laughing as he ran as fast as he could, shooting up at the ceiling uselessly as he ran like the chicken he was. Freakin Captain America right on his tail, as the ceiling played "one way or another I'm gonna find ya, I'm gonna _get'cha get'cha get'cha_ ," _what was Peter's life?!_

Steve was teasing the teenager, shooting blue paint on either side of him, purposely missing as he chased after the boy. Peter hooted loudly, rounding a wall and seeing Tony standing there a moment later.

But the billionaire didn't shoot at the teen like Peter had been prepared for, he began running alongside him instead, Peter had to slow his pace for a moment before Tony went down to one knee and called, " _I'll cover you kid!"_ And then the man began firing as many shots as he could at Cap.

Peter pumped his fists in the air, throwing his head back and hollering as he watched Steve shoot Tony straight on his glowing arc-reactor and the other man fall to the ground in an overdramatic death. Cap's whole front was glowing yellow now, and it made him that much easier to spot as he came barreling at Peter.

Peter was panting lightly as he continued in the game of chase. He didn't even know _why_ Cap was still following him at this point, but it was fun nonetheless. A moment later Natasha rolled seeming from nowhere, right in front of Peter and cutting off the way the teen had been headed, the spy fired at him and Steve with a sly smirk, knowing exactly what she had done.

Peter yelped jumping over a wall as he felt a sting of a pellet hit his hip. Before he heard more _'popping'_ come from behind him, followed by Thor's shouts on the other side of the room. This was madness, it was utter and pure _madness_.

Peter cackled. Running because he didn't know if Steve was still after him, or if he was fighting it out with Nat. And also, because now that he had started running he didn't really want to stop.

Peter spun as he was assaulted with a spray of purple, chuckling as he called out "missed me, Barton!" And turned around a corner.

Unexpectedly, standing right there was _Clint_ , a wicked smirk on his face and his gun levered at Peter, "Oh _did I?"_ He said a moment before he shot Peter square on the chest. The teenager looked down in shock at the green paint.

"I _knew_ you were working with Bruce!" Peter shouted pointing an accusing finger and the Archer. In answer Bruce shot from somewhere up high, hitting the ground near Peter's feet with purple paint.

"And you guys _traded guns_!?" Peter shouted, looking down at the stained dirt. " _You cheaters,"_ he said before jumping over the wall and running again. He could hear Clint coming after him with a laugh of his own.

If Peter thought it was loud before, it was a _roar of sound_ now. A constant mantra of ' _pop pop pop'_ echoing with the music, people all shouting, some of the yells coherent others just random noise and laughing voices.

And then there was a yell that overpowered all the other noise, and Peter watched as Thor came barreling through the room his gun firing at everything that moved, black splattered over Peter's legs.

But Thor was running backward, the blond not looking where he was going, and suddenly Thor went crashing through the cement shack that sat in the center of the room. Peter gasped as he watched the man smash through not just one, but _two_ of the walls before the whole thing crumbled apart and fell to the floor in a big powdery mess.

Clint stopped chasing Peter, the two of them gawking in shock next to each other. On the other side of the now _decimated shack,_ Tony and Sam also stood frozen side by side. The noise had all but stopped at the loud _'boom'_ the shack had made when Thor's body had destroyed it.

The four of them all stumbled there way over the _once shack_ and the dizzy looking Thor. Peter blinked down at the thunder god, still feeling surprised over what he just witnessed. Thor was half buried in the ruble, but he looked fine, if not a little sheepish.

Tony heaved a very large sigh, one that Peter could almost feel, though he wasn't looking at the billionaire, his eyes trained on Thor. "I'll get my checkbook," Tony said flatly.

"Aye," Thor agreed from his place on the floor.

* * *

 **Well, that got outta hand...**


	8. Chapter 8

**Hello, my beautiful people! Sorry that I haven't posted in eleventy-million years my health has been pretty bad and I've been having trouble writing.**

 **But hopefully, I'll be able to get back on top of things. :)**

* * *

 ** _Chapter 8:_**

"Keep them inside!" The Captain shouts over the comms, "our main objective is to keep these things within a _four-block radius."_

"Got it," Spidey chirps as he swings forward, launching himself onto a flying Doombot, and ripping it open before pulling out (what he hopes) is some imperative wiring.

The thing sparked and withered from under him, shouting " _FOOLISH CHILD!"_ at the teenager in a _very creepy_ impersonation of the real Doctor Doom, before Spidey finally heaved off its head with a grunt of effort. _Okay,_ so _decapitating_ the robots seemed to work…but that took a lot of strength and there were far too many of these things for Peter to have to tear the heads off of every single one of them.

Peter replied a moment later, over the sounds of battle, "I know _you_ are but what am I?" Before webbing the robot's detached head to the ground and taking off for another approaching bot.

"I think that might've proved its point, kid," Falcon said over the comms, Spidey could hear the rushing wind cutting over Sam's voice as he flew around somewhere overhead. But he couldn't see the man from here, Falcon and Iron Man were in charge of keeping the Doombots inside the perimeter, while the rest of them were primarily kicking butts.

 _"Nah,"_ the spider shrugged as two Doombots came at him from both sides, waiting until the last second before leaping up like a coiled spring and letting the two bots crash into each other before webbing them down. "I'm a mature _grown up_ ," Peter told his friend, "I'm like-like at least a level _3_ adult, maybe even a _4_!"

"If you still refer to adults as _'grown ups',"_ Natasha spoke over the line, it was still so weird to have people to talk to while in the midst of battle, but it was good, less lonely, and definitely less stressful. "Then I'm gonna go out on a limb here, and say, you are in fact _not one_."

Peter gasped loud and dramatic, before shoving his fist into a Doombot's face and ripping it open ( _boy_ , was he going to have some split knuckles later) "I feel _offended_ , I take the highest form of _offense_."

There were light snickers over the link before Iron Man's voice came, sounding a bit more tinny than usual. "Hey Katniss," Tony addressed Clint, "get this guy off my tail would'ya."

"Got'ya, you overpriced trash-ben," Hawkeye answered back. Spiderman could just see the man out of the corner of his eye, the Archer placed high up on the edge of a building sending out any arrows he could to stop the Doombots. But they just seemed to never end, the robots in their _too short green skirts,_ were coming from nowhere and everywhere, and Spidey wasn't sure that the teams' current efforts would be enough to hold them. They needed some sort of game plan, but until Peter came up with one, he was going to keep that little thought to himself.

"I am _hurt,_ Barton," Tony spoke, there was a huff of exertion from the man, but Peter couldn't spot Iron Man from his position. "Right in the black hole where my heart used to be."

Peter snickered, before leaping forward and twisting in the air, grabbing onto a bot by the back of its dress ( _dress, skirt, drapes_ , it was all the same in Peter's mind) and trying to tear off its head, but in a very disturbing (and unexpected) move, the Doombot twisted its head and arms around so that it was now facing Spidey.

" _Hi there_ ," the teenager greeted before punching it square in the face, "nice weather we're havin'," Peter went on as the bot tried to electrocute him, "bit more _Doom_ than they said there'd be in the forecast, _but what can ya do_?"

 _"Idiotic vermin!"_ The Doombot boomed, (hehe, _Doom-Boom,_ rhyming at its best) "You are beneath Doom!" It went on, almost blasting one of Spidey's arms, but the teenager's trusty spider-sense saved him from being one freshly chard arachnid.

"One," Spidey began as he crawled over the robot, trying to gain purchase high up in the air and off balance as they were, "I am not _beneath_ you, I am on your head, you _noodle brain_. And _two_ , I think you should meet one _pickle-puss_ of an editor, you guys would get along _swimmingly_."

"Did you just call one of these things a _'noodle brain'_?!" Clint gawked over the line, "how anyone fears you, I will never know."

"Pray tell," Thor spoke over the comm, making it crackle in Peter's helpless ear. "What is this _'noodle brain'_?"

Spidey couldn't help the bark of laughter that left his mouth, his eyes scrunching at the corners as his smile widened beneath the mask, he heard Tony trying to explain what the metaphor meant to the Asgardian a moment later, and then Steve's surprised chuckle, a light background noise over the comm link.

The teenager opened his mouth to say something witty, (as he tends to do) but before he could get the quip out Peter's spider-sense gave a loud ringing jolt, and before he could do much more than push away from the robot he was straddling, the thing gave a high-pitched beep, and detonated.

Spiderman was sent flying backward as the Doombot came apart with a loud ' _choomkkk'_ , metal ripping apart and green fabric catching fire. The teenager crashed into the side of a car, the window crunching under his back, and the wind knocked out of his lungs with a loud wheezed breath.

"Spidey?!"

"Kid, you alright?"

"Pete?"

"Spiderman, report,"

"I have eyes on Spiderman, he got thrown into a car after one of these bastards blew up from under him," Hawkeye was replying to the rest of the team, which was nice because Spidey didn't think he could quite talk yet. Peter heaved, blinking a few times and lifting himself back up onto slightly wobbly legs. His ears were ringing, and he now had a big'ol headache, but there didn't seem to be much damage.

"Mm'all good," the teenager told his team, "nothing an Advil won't f-" Peter's words were snatched from his mouth as a loud roar was heard, the sound of it vibrating up Spidey's back, but it wasn't scary or unfamiliar, the teen turned to face the noise. Watching as the large mass of Hulk barreled down the street taking out and smashing Doombots as he went.

" _Spider!"_ Hulk greeted before snatching Peter up and kicking a bot away like it was nothing more than a tin-can. Spiderman yelped as he was pulled onto Hulk's shoulder before righting himself and patting the massive monster on the head.

"Hey buddy," Peter replied. He hadn't seen Hulk this whole battle, he could hear him, and sometimes he thought he might've seen a flash of green (but it was hard to tell with all the Doombot's and their green kilts) and it wasn't like Hulk had a comm, so.

"Spider smash?" Hulk asked after Peter had settled himself on his shoulder.

Spiderman smiled wide under his mask, before cracking his knuckles and looking to his friend, a lot of people feared the Hulk, and rightly so, he was not someone to mess with and it didn't take a lot to get on his bad side. But Spidey had nothing to be afraid of, and honestly having the Hulk as one of your friends and allies made a person a heck of a lot stronger. "Spider smash." Peter agreed.

And with that Hulk let out a rumbling roar and charged, Peter still on his shoulder. The Doombots all began to turn away, running and starting up their jetpacks to make their escape. But Hulk wasn't going to let that fly, (hehe, get it- ' _fly'_ ) The green monster leaped in the air with another war cry, and Peter cackled as he and Hulk went soaring upward and into the middle of a group of bots.

Awe, Peter loves his life.

* * *

 _"This,"_ Spidey heaved another Doombot into the air _, "is"_ launching it upward, _"getting"_ with a grunt and straining arms, _"really, really,"_ before webbing it to a building _, "old."_ He told his team over the comm.

 _"DOOM!"_ A robot screamed at Spidey before kicking the teenager in the gut, Peter huffed as he made himself spring up and rip it's head off, "I _GET IT!_ _DOOM DOOM DOOM,_ WE'RE ALL DOOMED! YADA YADA YADA!"

Peter was starting to get grumpy, they have been at this for _who knows how long_ and he is beyond sore and about ready to start _eating_ the Doombot's he's so hungry. The problem with the darn bot's is that if there is enough left of them, they just start putting themselves back together, and that, with the fact that new ones were still coming, meant that the Avengers have had a very long day, and it looks as if it might be going into the night, if they don't come up with a better plan than _'rip off their heads.'_

"I think someone's _hangry_ ," Hawkeye said over the link, "does Spiderman want some num-nums?"

Peter huffed, "you, _hawk-butt_ ," he began his reply as he used his thighs to crush one of these stupid robots' heads, (man, if only Nat had seen that, she would have been proud, she and Peter have been working on that move for _over_ a week now) "Get to sit all cozy up on a building while I'm getting the crap kicked outta me."

"Well maybe if you were better at dodging you wouldn't be kicked around so much," Clint said without missing a beat.

"You can't see me Clint, but I'm flipping you off." The teenager remarked.

"Oh, the family love," Tony chirped, from somewhere high above.

"Truly is beautiful," Sam replied a moment later.

"Enough," Cap said, trying to be scolding, but after months of living with the man Peter could easily make out the amusement in his voice. "Spiderman's right, this has been going on for too long, we need a new strategy."

"I think I could be of assistance in that area," a new voice replied as the comm link gave a cackle. Spidey jumped, not recognizing the man that was now talking in his ear.

"Richards?" Tony gawked over the link. "This is a secure line." The billionaire grumbled. So, Tony knew who had hacked their comms? Because Spidey still didn't have a clue. But no one seemed worried, or freaked, just shocked…so it was probably okay…probably.

"Ha!" Another man's voice came on, this one sounding younger, "not anymore Iron Man."

Okay, Peter was getting more and more confused by the minute. "What the heck is going on!?" He couldn't help but ask, however, his outburst drew the attention of a few more Doombot's, and they all charged the teenager at once, yelling _"DOOM!"_ in unison.

"Oh, _c'mon!"_ Spidey complained, "can't we just be friends? Let's go out for a pizza, maybe buy you guys some pants." The bots ignored Peter, as they started piling up, surrounding and trapping Spidey. The teenager wasn't as strong as he had been at the beginning of this battle, he had burned too many calories, and was now running on no fuel. "Hey, Thor!" Spidey called as he was knocked down and electrocuted, ( _don't bite your tongue don't bit your tongue_ ) "Little help here!?"

A moment later the ground shook as something collided with it, and then the Doombots were being knocked away from Peter and smashed apart. The teenager panted before lifting himself up to his elbows and watching as The _Thing_ finished demolishing the robots. "You…" Peter began, feeling gobsmacked. "Are not Thor." He settled on.

The Thing looked down at the spider and raised a rocky eyebrow, "no." He said in his groggled voice, "what tipped it off?"

"The Fantastic Four have come to help," Steve spoke over the line.

Peter blinked up at The Thing before the man helped him to his feet, Spidey felt wobbly and still a bit confused. Sure Dr. Doom was usually the Fantastic Four's MO, but they hadn't arrived this whole fight and it had been going on for _hours_ , Peter just figured they were off world. But evidently, he had been wrong.

"We just finished up with our own army of Doombots across Manhattan," a woman spoke, Spidey figured that must be the Invisible Woman. Peter had never met the Four before…okay, well, _once_ they had given a speech down at his high school, but that was  before. _Before_ Gwen and Aunt May died, _before_ Peter had lost his home and voice, _before_ Hydra and the Avengers, _before_ Peter had found a new life for himself.

Now, Peter felt more on even ground with them. Back when he was still fifteen and considering his life as Spiderman he hadn't felt that he was anywhere near the same level as the Four, they were ' _untouchable'_ in the teenager's mind, but that's what Peter had also thought of the Avengers. And now he knew they were just people, just like everyone else, but with a meaner punch and a grittier lifestyle. (S'why he fit in just dandy)

"I constructed a device that gives off a frequency that renders the Doombots lifeless." Mr. Fantastic spoke over the comm, and _oh man!_ This guy was an absolute genius, Peter had always wanted to meet Reed Richards if for nothing else, then to just talk about science with the man. Don't get Peter wrong, Tony and Bruce were totally his science bros, but Reed Richards dealt with different things than they did. He went to other worlds and experimented with technology that wasn't even from _Earth_ , so if Peter wanted to have a bit of a fangirl meltdown within his own head…well, there weren't any telepath here, so…

There were grunts of acknowledgment and muttered _'thank god(s)'_ over the comm link from the rest of the team as Mr. Fantastic revealed his idea. "The difficult part, however," the man began, "is that it must be wired internally to at least three Doombots for it to reach the rest of them."

Peter bit his lip from under the mask. So, they would need to get ahold of three different robots and crack them open without killing them, then they could program the virus into the Doombot and just let it work its course…alright…Peter had done harder things, they could pull this off.

The teenager cracked his gloved knuckles, and wiggles the stiffness out of his limbs _, "piece of cake,"_ Spidey said over the comms, "oh god! CAKE! _Sam-Falcon-Bird Man_ , can we please have cake when we get back to the Tower!?" The teenager asked, he was so hungry he was going to _die_ he swears to g- _oh!_ Maybe he was going through a growth spurt!?

God knows Peter needs it, the teenager is still shorter than most of his peers and he is going to stick out like a sore thumb when he goes to college in the fall. A growth spurt would be a blessing at this point, even if that means Peter was going to have to suffer through the eternal hunger for a few weeks, it would be worth it if he grew an inch or two…or six.

"Gotta eat your veggies first, squirt," Clint answered at the same time Sam said, "what kind of cake?"

Spidey hummed, "I don't care, as long as you're making it Sam." The teenager said before, "and Clint, _you suck!"_

There were a few murmurs over the line before that young voice (still sounded older than Peter though) spoke again, "dude we get this over with and the pizzas' on Reed!"

Spidey felt a little weird talking to people he couldn't see or picture, but he was pretty sure this voice had to be the Human Torch's, that guy was around his age, right? He was the youngest on the Fantastic Fours team, much like Spidey was on the Avengers.

"Celebratory cake and pizza for kickin' the Doombot's metal butts," Peter replied, "I'm in."

The Invisible Woman spoke then, her eye-roll evident in her voice, "gettin' ahead of yourselves boys, we still need to beat the Doombots before we can start making pizza orders."

There was a muttered conversation that Peter couldn't make out and then Iron Man was saying, "whoever beats'em first doesn't foot the bill," and then everyone was running, the promise of food and no more fighting once this was all over, was a very good incentive for all of the heroes involved.

* * *

Taking down the Doombots hadn't been all that hard once the team had a plan, just crack'em open program the virus into the mainframe and then sit back and watch as the robots crumpled lifelessly to the floor one at a time, Spidey felt like he was on cloud nine by the time the last Doombot crashed to the ground.

In the end, Peter is pretty sure that the two teams just split the bill for the pizza, honestly, Spidey would have paid for it _himself_ , just as long as he got to stuff his face when this was all over.

After the battle, Iron Man and Falcon had offered to go grab the food while the rest of the heroes began cleaning up the remains of the many, many, robots, (Peter thinks they got the better end of that deal, but whatever, because **_food_!** )

It was a bit odd working along with the Fantastic Four, Peter could tell there was something between Tony and Dr. Richards, Tony didn't seem to like the man very much, but they were both being sort of polite (in that weird fake way that was clearly an act) but _who cares_ , Spidey could ask what that was all about later.

For now, Peter was busy lifting dead robots and throwing them into a pile for later pick up, (and who the heck would be picking them up? The teenager wanted to know) Because now that SHEILD was no longer a thing, what organization dealt with a broken army of evil Doombots? (Peter's life is like a bad movie)

About twenty minutes into the cleanup Iron Man and Flacon landed with at least a dozen pizzas, "get'em while they're hot, kiddies," Tony had chirped as the two groups began digging in, forgetting about the mess left in the wake of their battle in favor of feeding their grumbling stomachs, (post battle hunger was something that _all_ heroes dealt with, growing teenager or not)

Spidey opted to steal a whole box for himself, _(hey! he was a hungry growing spider, he can do what he wants)_ dodging Thor's large grabby hands with a cackle, and web-slinging himself to the safety of a ledge on a high up building where he could eat in peace but still keep an eye on everybody down below.

When Peter was on his fifth slice of pepperoni and mushroom pizza, however, someone landed behind Spidey with a muffled _'thud'_ of boots. At first, the teenager figured it was Clint coming to pester him (check on him) but Peter could still see the Archer down on the street with the others, one of his arms slung over Bruce's shoulders in a friendly gesture.

Peter blinked as he turned to the other person on the roof, finding not one of the Avengers, but one of the Fantastic Four. _Johnny Storm_ , yeah, _The_ Johnny Storm. "Uh," Spidey mumbled around a large bite of pizza feeling a bit confused at seeing the other teenager. Sure, they had passed each one another or spoken quickly over the comms during battle, but that didn't really count for anything. "Hi," Peter finally got out.

The blond smiled at Spidey, his lower lip split open, his hair ruffled and windswept, and his blue suit smudged with grime, but he didn't look any worse for wear than the rest of them did, still coming down from the post battle adrenaline high and fear induced jitters that came with fighting for hours on end.

"Hey," the other boy said back. "That seat taken?" He gestured to the ledge next to Peter, still grinning that white-toothed smile that Peter had only seen in magazines or on billboards up until this point.

Spidey shifted over a few inches, "nope, go ahead." He shrugged one shoulder, letting the other boy sit next to him, the pizza box placed between their dangling legs as something like a buffer.

Peter side eyed the blond, not knowing exactly what to say or do, on a normal day Spidey was all for talking and embarrassing himself with his overly excited mouth and lack of tact, especially when meeting a fellow hero (god knows he had made an utter fool of himself when he first met Daredevil) but he had come up here to be alone for a couple of minutes and he wasn't exactly in the best mood to be making small talk.

The teenager needed some time to let his body recharge, Spidey was over stimulated from the fight and being electrocuted a few too many times, and he was just now getting his first meal of the day after only three hours of nightmare infested sleep the night prior, Peter was beyond pooped, and a tired Peter was a less talkative Peter…

"I gotta bone to pick with you," Johnny said a moment later, breaking the slightly awkward silence that had settled over the two teenagers.

Peter levered the other with a caught off guard stare, (though it was probably a bit hard to tell with his mask still half on) "What?" He asked, feeling slightly defensive but a tad curious as well.

"Yeah," Johnny leaned back on his hands gazing out at the slowly darkening sky, he looked relaxed in a way Peter didn't feel; Johnny seemed to be one of those people that felt at ease in any social situation. (Of course, Peter could be wrong, he _just_ met the kid) But that was a trait that Peter had always envied in other people, he sure was jealous of it right now. "You totally stole my shtick," Johnny stated.

"I…" Peter trailed off, finding himself even more confused, "what?" He settled on again.

"Yup, don't deny it, dude," the blond went on, he sounded a touch playful, a teasing tone lifting his voice ever so slightly, "teenage superhero, lives with older heroes in a big'ol skyscraper in the middle of New York, livin' life as a high-profile celebrity. Don't think I didn't notice."

Peter gawked at the other, opening his mouth before closing it again, his brain malfunctioning inside of his head because he hadn't even thought about that. It was true though, now that Peter was unmasked as Spiderman he guessed that he and the Human Torch did have a few things in common.

Johnny went on before Peter could think of a reply. "Yu _p_ ," he popped the P on the end, "totally stole everyone's attention man, _not_ cool." Johnny winked with the last statement showing that he was joking, "probably because you got the whole _baby face_ thing goin' for'ya, people love getting a new celebrity puppy."

That sentence broke Peter out of his stupor, loudly spluttering in indignance _"'baby face'!?"_ he repeated, feeling offended and defensive at being referred to as such, (he was Spider- _Man_ dag-nab-it!) "I do _not_ have a ' _baby face'_."

Johnny shrugged, still casually gazing out to the sky, not even glancing at Spidey, "I can't tell'ya how surprised we all were when you unmasked, turns out Spiderman is just a toddler in spandex."

Peter couldn't help it, he grabbed a piece of pizza and threw it at Johnny Storm's stupidly perfect face. "Well, how older are you!?" Peter demanded he knew that the other teenager couldn't be _that_ much older than him.

Johnny laughed loudly when the greasy slice smacked against his face, his chest moving with the motion before he pulled the pizza off and beginning to eat it a moment later. "Eighteen." He said around a mouth full of crust.

Peter huffed rolling his eyes under the mask, "you got two years on me, _big whoop_. So if _I'm_ a toddler then _you're_ a kid." He told the older as he took another slice of pizza, the cheese stretching from the box and getting on Spidey's gloved fingers.

" _No-no_ I think it's _cool."_ Johnny spoke an instant later, "I always thought you were _older_ , like at least in your late twenties or something, never even thought that Spiderman was around _my_ age."

The conversation was a bit strange, but it had gotten Peter to loosen up, he wondered absently, if that had been the point of the teasing in the first place. "Yeah?" He enquired back.

"Yeah." Johnny answered, "we should hang out sometime." He said, sounding genuine and maybe a little hesitant. "S'kinda hard to make friends with our lifestyle, y'know?"

Spidey glanced at the other over his shoulder, he hadn't ever thought it would be hard for _Johnny Storm_ of all people to make friends. He was such a hot-shot (pun intended) but now that Peter was a publicly known superhero he could see how it would be hard to make friends.

Peter didn't have any friends (outside of the Avengers) because he feared that what happened to Gwen would happen to anyone else he became close too. And Peter doesn't think he could deal with the guilt of anyone else dying because of him, sometimes just _thinking_ about Gwen made him want to curl up into a ball and never move again.

Was that what Johnny was saying? Did Johnny Storm fear the same thing Peter did? Or had it already happened like it had with Peter? Had he lost someone due to the figurative mask?

Instead of asking any of that though, Peter huffed a laugh and agreed, "tell me about it." Before, "my people will get in touch with your people, let's make this happen." Peter said in the most flippant voice he could pull off, waving a hand in gesture.

Johnny snickered beside him but didn't say anything else. The silence was more comfortable now though, the adults down below starting to pack up and retreat, the sun painting the sky in a pinkish orange that made everything seem more wistful and dazed. Peter's stomach was no longer eating itself and he was pretty sure the last tendrils of adrenaline were finally out of his system, he finally felt like he could breathe.

"Why do'ya still wear the mask?" Johnny asked after a handful of minutes had passed.

Peter leaned back to mirror the older, the concrete cold under his body, making it that he had to repress a shiver, "habit?" Spidey replied, though the way he said it made it sound more like a question rather than a statement.

"Well fights over," Johnny said, "you can take it off, I feel like I'm talkin' to a big bug."

Peter hummed as he slipped the rest of the spandex off of his head, his hair puffing out with it, "arachnid," he mumbled absently.

"Bless you," Johnny replied.

Peter glared at the older, his face now fully on display so that the other could get the full scope of it, "not a bug," Spidey began, "an _arachnid_."

Johnny ignored him, instead, pulling on one of Peter's newly exposed cheeks, "see," he cooed, "like I said- _baby face_."

Peter didn't feel any remorse for kicking Johnny in the shin. Even when that somehow turned into a subpar food fight, which escalated into a lazy wrestling match up on the roof, with both teens covered in food and playfully yelling at each other.

* * *

Peter was finally doing something that he should have done a long time ago.

Two sets of a dozen sunflowers in hand, an oversized maroon and gray sweater on, and a slight hop to his step, Peter crawled out of the taxi he had taken and laid his eyes on the very familiar streets of Queens.

Of course, now that Peter had his web-shooters back he came over to this part of the city and patrolled, (if for nothing other than the nostalgia of it) every other night as Spiderman. But Peter hadn't been here without the mask in months.

The teenager had gotten an early start to his day today, waking up at 4:00am due to nightmares and not being able to fall back asleep, Peter had decided to take a page out of Steve's book and get up with the sun and head over to his home borough. It was either that or wait for the others to wake up, so Peter seized his opportunity.

It was nearly 6:00am now, so the city was starting to bustle and hustle around Peter, half dead and sleepy people fighting for taxis and cups of coffee as they began their day. But it was fairly quiet and secluded where the teenager was headed. Easily weaving his way through the throngs of people Peter made his way to the large graveyard a few blocks away from where he had been dropped off.

The grass was still frozen with early morning dew, giving a slight _'crunch'_ under Peter's converses, a satisfying sound as Peter walked through it. It was going to be a sunny day today, the sky mostly blue, only broken up by a light speckling of smog and clouds.

The teenager didn't have to think about where he was going, his feet already remembering which steps to take in order to get to his family's graves, something that was no longer a mental thought but more of a physical pull.

A few feet from his parents and Aunt and Uncle's graves, however, the sixteen-year-old stumbled at the sight that lay before him, nearly tripping over his own feet as he took in a sharp breath and stared wide-eyed.

The four graves were littered with gifts, many different types of flowers, cards of all sizes, little stuffed-animals, children's drawings, and other tiny objects all lay scattered in front or on the four pillars.

Peter took a wobbly step forward, his knees suddenly feeling like jelly and his lungs expanding in his chest, he felt completely floored by the sight. There were just _so many_ things, he hadn't expected this at all. When Peter had decided to visit his family, he had expected it to look the same as it always did, empty and lonely.

Peter's throat felt clogged as he carefully took a seat among the strewn out gifts, running his fingers over the matted turfed of a bear and poking at a small Spiderman action figure that lay by his Uncle Ben's headstone.

There were so many letters, some addressed to Aunt May some to Uncle Ben, others to his long-lost parents. Peter didn't think he should read them, they weren't written for him, but he did look over the many drawings that sat folded against the headstones. There were a lot of drawing of _him_ , well Spiderman. One of a red and blue figure lifting a bus, another of him web-slinging through the air. Always with the words 'Thank You' or 'Love You' scrawled in crayon or colored pencil over the front.

Peter was completely stunned, his eyes moist and his mouth working to form coherent words. After who knows how long, of sitting at his family's graves taking it all in, Peter looked up and gave a watery chuckle, "I see you guys have had some visitors." He spoke into the morning air. "Secrets out," Peter almost whispered, as if the words were only for his family. "I'm Spiderman."

Peter placed a hand against May's gravestone, tracing her name with the tips of his fingers, biting his lower lip the teenager took the two dozen sunflowers from where he had dropped them in his shock, and divided them up, placing some in front of his parent's graves and then his Aunt and Uncle's. Most people said that sunflowers were a too happy a flower to place in front of someone's grave, but Peter didn't see why he would want to give his loved ones a _sad_ flower in place of a happy one.

Once Peter had arranged the flowers how he wanted, the bright yellow of them almost lost among the rest of the gifts, he just sat for a while, silent in shock over the vast amount of love shown for his family by the people of his cherished city. It made Peter feel warm, something puffing in his chest and settling there for later inspection.

The four gravestones look freshly washed, no grime or dirt smudging or staining the gray stone. Peter wanted to thank the people who had done this, who had taken the time to buy or make gifts and bring them here for his family.

At first, the teenager didn't know how he could possibly thank everyone, he had no way of knowing who had done this. But then a thought came to him, Peter stood, slipping his phone out of his pocket and taking a few steps back from the four graves. Making sure to get the gifts and the names carved into the headstones clearly in the shot, Peter snapped a picture, posting it to his public Twitter feed with the words, _'Thank you.'_ As the only explanation for the picture.

Feeling somewhat emotionally rung out, and knowing that people might try to come find him at the graveyard now that they knew where he was, Peter said his goodbyes to his family, with a promise of coming back soon, grabbing the last half dozen sunflowers, he had one more place to go before he headed back to the Tower.

Passing a large tree and a few other early risers Peter made his way over a steep hill and twisted his way to another familiar grave. This one by itself and looking a bit lonely, but it was alright, the sun was peeking through the clouds and illuminating the cold stone into something warmer.

Setting the bright sunflowers in front of the grave and brushing the tips of his fingers over the top of the stone in something like a caress, Peter placed himself in front of the grave and spoke softly, "boy, do I got a lot to tell you, Gwen."

* * *

 **So quick thing, on this day (20th of May) of last year, I posted the first chapters of RH, can you guys believe I've been writing fanfiction for a whole year now!? (Craziness)  
So in a sort of _thank you_ for following me and sticking with me for a year, I not only posted this chapter today, but I also posted a chapter of one of my other Spiderman stories 'Brace for Impact' so be sure to go check that out as well.**

 **If you wanna see my art for this chapter it is up on my tumbler. :)  
(Peter is a cutey to draw)**

 **Thank you all for being patient with me and for continuing to read and comment on this story after a year of posting it, it means the world to me.** **༼ つ ಥ_ಥ ༽つ**

 **~Fernandidilly-yo out!**


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